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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23814640">once again, you long to take your heart back and be free</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkheart9459/pseuds/inkheart9459'>inkheart9459</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Phantom of the Opera (2004)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Multi, Phantom of the Opera AU, i have a whole opera house of roles to fill here, most of the rest of the characters show up at some point, phantom!lucius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:22:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>86,948</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23814640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkheart9459/pseuds/inkheart9459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Truly, until this moment, Narcissa hadn’t given the girl another thought. She had come to the opera house as an orphan and she had taken the girl into the dance troupe easily enough, but now, standing in the deep halls of the opera house, hearing her voice echo off the walls, she realizes there's something more to Hermione Granger after all.</p><p>Hermione hears a voice from behind the wall, offering to teach her how to really sing, claiming to be her angel of music. She doesn't believe in angels, but she'll take the lessons. Still, who is the man behind the wall and why is he so unwilling to come out?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. no angel, no demon, certainly not a phantom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Listen, don't watch Phantom of the Opera with your best friend in the middle of brainstorming plots for your new favorite OT3 because that's how this happened. I regret nothing, for now, but oh god when my wordy ass makes this 150k I might.<br/>Also, if you've watched any recent iteration of Phantom, you'll know there's some violence and death. I keep it about that same level, so if you're ok with that, you'll be ok with this. If you're not ok with that, thank you for visiting, have a nice mental health day and I'll see you on the next fic!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Truly, until this moment, she hadn’t given the girl another thought. She had come to the opera house as an orphan and she had taken the girl into the dance troupe easily enough and then sent her off to learn with the other girls her age. That had really been it, short of leading a class here and there. Of course she had heard stories, Draco was her best friend, but save for Draco’s part in them, she hadn’t truly listened. Life of a ballet mistress was always busy, during the season and outside of it, it didn’t matter. There was always a class to teach, always choreography to design, always something. The fact that she didn’t actually live in the opera house itself, didn’t help. After the day was done she knew the others gathered and drank and ate together, but she had always had someone else she wished to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her voice, no one told me anyone here could sing like that,” his hushed voice came from behind her. No doubt he had slipped from one of the many hidden passageways that only he seemed to know about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s rough and untrained,” she said instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa, I know you hear it too,” he said adamantly. “She could be great with training. She could take the opera world by storm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard the grand dreams in his voice and she would never do anything to crush them. “I didn’t tell you, because not even I knew. Draco has never said anything about her singing.” Quite frankly most of the stories she did hear had to do with some harmless prank or other, or stealing food from the kitchens. “I was just coming down to see you and found her here, praying in the chapel, and then she started to sing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something wrong with the normal way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa waved him off. “Just a drunken party, nothing to worry about, darling.” She felt him envelop her in a hug from behind and relaxed into his grip. He laid a kiss on her neck and she shivered. “As much as this was exactly what I had in mind for when I got down there, perhaps not here. The walls echo, you know this.” It was how they were hearing Hermione so completely even a very long way down the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He nipped at her neck and gripped her tighter. “A couple fucking in the hall would not be out of the ordinary for the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius,” she said, trying to be stern, but he was sucking on her neck in just the right way and oh, God, she had needed him all day and he seemed to know it. “Let’s go home and then you can have your wicked way with me with half a mile of stone between us and anyone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He growled and pulled back, stepping beside her. “Fine, fine, but you go on. I want to listen a little more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed and shook her head. He was lost to her for the night. Either she let him have her right here, or she left him to listen to a voice, shivery on pitch, but clear as a bell. Hermione Granger had a voice that any up and coming opera star would kill for, and she had kept it so hidden away, they seemed to be the only ones who knew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And just what are you planning on doing while listening?” She could see the gears in his head already turning, just as when he wrote an opera, all the little pieces, stage direction and notes and lyrics fitting together so neatly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked back at her, having walked another few steps ahead almost unconsciously. “She needs a teacher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you plan on getting her to agree? You’re a man who isn’t supposed to exist as anything more than a rumor or something to blame bad happenings on in the opera.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s young, perhaps I can be an angel of music.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa snorted. “She’s seventeen, darling. She’s not so young anymore. And from what I hear she’s got a good head on her shoulders, practical unlike the other girls in the corps. She won’t buy you as an angel for a second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced down at himself, all in black finery, save for the bright white of his mask, standing out starkly in the dark hall. “I think I can manage. I’ve convinced the opera house for the last twenty years. How hard could it be to convince one more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me know how it goes.” She started down the hall again. “And Lucius, any time you would like to come fuck your wife, I’ll be in our bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard his steps falter for a moment, but he didn’t turn and walk with her. Just as well. He would be half distracted until his scheme worked out and a half distracted lover was no good indeed. She sighed dramatically. She supposed her own hand would have to do tonight, though he was going to make up for it in the morning, even if he didn’t know it yet. He wouldn’t mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lucius slipped back in the passageway he had come from. This would take him right by the chapel and the walls were thin there. The girl would be able to hear him easily and he could hear her as clearly as he would need to for this instruction to work. Quite frankly, he had grown tired of La Carlotta and the thought of having a new star, one that would be much more skilled under his tutelage than that diva. He had given Carlotta a season, but truly, he hadn’t been impressed even then. He wasn’t truly surprised, what could be expected of a woman whose true name was Lavender Brown, but kept that fact hidden, changing her name to Carlotta Rossi to make her seem more in tune with the opera scene. He huffed. Either you had the skill and your name could be absolutely ridiculous and no one would bat an eye, or you were a dilettante.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he was done, no one would question an opera star named Hermione Granger. Though, perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. She did have to agree after all. And getting her to agree to being taught by no more than a voice behind a wall would be interesting, angel of music act or no. If she asked too many questions, what exactly was he going to do then? Careful plans were more his forte, not spur of the moment considerations. Yet, this had to be done now or he would dwell on it for days until he got his next chance to ask her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waited, listening to a voice that almost raised the hair on his neck. Just a little training, just a little, and everything in him that loved music would be so pleased to know this young woman and listen to her sing. He felt his heart beating in his chest, almost as hard as the day he had asked Narcissa to marry him. There was that same frisson of excitement. For him, these opportunities were both a once in a lifetime event. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers drifted up idly to trace the edge of his mask. When he was younger he used to wonder about what life would have been like without...what had happened to him, but now he rarely did. Without the mask he wouldn’t have met Narcissa. Without Narcissa there would be no Draco. And without them both, would he have this opportunity to mold a talent for the ages? No, most likely not. The odds were that his mother was poor and uneducated and if he hadn’t been born as he was, he would be a peasant who would know nothing of opera or music. That even if he wasn’t disfigured, he wouldn’t be travelling opera houses and conservatories of the world, looking for the next new talent. He had long ago learned to be truly thankful for what he had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, her song ended and he was released from the spell her words had woven over him, as all pleasing music was wont to do. Now was the time. If he didn’t speak now, he was sure the girl would disappear back to her quarters above and who knew how long he would have to wait for her to come back down here alone. Though it was the chapel of an opera house, not many people visited that chapel, but still. He had never been one to dally once he was decided. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sing beautifully,” he said, just loud enough to be heard through the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt the stillness in the other room like a physical weight. What if she ran? Most people did not react favorably to hearing voices behind walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Her words were hesitant and he heard footsteps coming closer to the wall he was behind. “But why were you listening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m an angel of music. I always listen to those who have music in their hearts.” Quite frankly, it wasn’t that much of a lie. He had favored musicians and conductors and a few guest stars in the years since he had become the phantom. What was the difference between a phantom and an angel, truly?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an inelegant snort. “There are no such things as angels. And if there were, they certainly wouldn’t linger in the walls of an opera house. Have you seen what goes on upstairs? If anything, the patron of opera is a demon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed quietly. “I have also been called the devil’s spawn if that pleases you. Believe whichever you wish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Phantom?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, perhaps the girl was too clever for her own good. “I might be. And if I was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I require nothing other than an answer to my first question, why were you listening? I’m not about to go running off screaming. There is a literal wall between us. If you could harm me through brick and mortar, I think you would deserve to get away with it. Like some sort of locked room mystery a la Edgar Allan Poe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have guessed that a corps member would like to read gothic fiction in their off time.” Not that Narcissa didn’t have stacks of books in their quarters, but still. Most of the stories she told were of girls who could barely read if at all and spent most of their off time drinking and talking of men they would like to sleep with. It was the way of the opera house after all. Draco had never much said anything about an academic mind within Hermione, but she was clever enough to keep up with his various schemes, he supposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not every woman in this opera house is the same. Madam Black isn’t like that, neither is Madam Tonks or Madam Lestrange. Just because the girls in the corps are young doesn’t mean they are fools. Let them have their fantasies and parties for now. Life is hard enough outside these walls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took half a step back. Well then. Feisty. And his desire to teach her only grew. “I know that well enough, Ms. Granger.” Too well really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long silence and Lucius wondered if she had gone, or if she was just waiting for his answer to her question. He supposed there was only really one way to find out. He sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was moving around in the walls as I am wont to do and I heard you singing. You have a beautiful voice. It could bring the world to its knees if you had the right teacher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you want to be that teacher,” Hermione said immediately after he was done speaking. So she had just been waiting for him to answer after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” There was no use denying the fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why would you want to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely you’ve been around the opera house long enough to hear the rumors that the Phantom helps out musicians who he favors.” He heard enough whispers to know what they said about him, could help you out, could kill you with his ‘favorite necklace’, and the latter was far more likely. It kept the money rolling in so what did it matter that he could count the number of people he had killed on one hand, and only to protect him or his little family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve heard a great many rumors about you, that is indeed one of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good music is one of the most important things to me. This opera has been my home for many, many years. How could I not love music. How could I not hear potential in a voice and want to refine it. I know of your father. He played here a few times as a guest. I listened to every performance. He loved music like I do, I could tell in how he played.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did.” Her voice was so quiet that he almost couldn’t hear it through the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you share the same love?” If she didn’t love music with all of her soul, then teaching her would truly do no good. Someone could learn to sing well, but to be truly spectacular music had to possess every ounce of their being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I think it was a miracle I ended up here. To think of all the places I could have been sent. When I missed my father I could hear him in the performances. Music has been my one comfort since his passing. All of my memories of him have music in them. So yes. I love music, perhaps more than words can say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And would you want to learn to sing, to be on stage as the leading lady?” Lucius found himself holding his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you come out from behind the walls to teach me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled in a sharp breath. No one, not even the musicians he helped had seen him. Only his family had since long before the genesis of the Phantom of the Opera. It had been safer that way. For his family, and for himself, really. He couldn’t...he didn’t know if he had it in him to be seen and rejected again. All these years with Narcissa and Draco had healed him in a way, but it was a fragile wound still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely you must know there is a reason I hide behind these walls.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would think the first reason would be that if anyone saw you just walking around like a regular person it would put a rather large dent in your ghostly image.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius had to give her that point. “That is one reason, yes, but that’s more of a side effect than the cause.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why do you stay behind the walls?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked around the dark and dank passageway. He’d seen the sun, been out in the streets, gone places other than the opera at Narcissa’s request, but he always felt as if he was seconds away from being discovered there. That his childhood would repeat itself even though now he was a man and could fight for himself. As much as he longed to exist in a world that was light and airy, that wasn’t what he could expect from his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suffice to say that who I am as a person would not be accepted outside of them.” He reached out to put his hands on damp stone. His heart beat hard in his chest. If he wasn’t so sure that this girl was worth it, he would have scoffed and retreated by now. He hadn’t spoken to another person outside of Narcissa and Draco for this long in years. He certainly hadn’t gotten this close to being personal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does that--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cut her off. “Please, I’d rather not delve into the issue further.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fell silent again. He wondered if he had ruined the chance to teach her by not being more forthright. But if that was what ruined the chance, he couldn’t begin to regret it. There was too much trauma there to even begin to explain, and Ms. Granger didn’t yet deserve that explanation. Perhaps she never would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No angel, no demon, certainly not a phantom then, just a regular man, treated poorly by the world. But a man that still wants to help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” And his words were so soft he knew she couldn’t have heard him, but her reply almost sounded as if she had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you do want to help, then I see no reason not to take you up on your offer. Dancing is wonderful, but it isn’t truly where my heart lies. The fact does remain, how are you supposed to teach me from behind a wall?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius smiled and pulled himself upright. “No one in this building knows it like I do. I know of a few rooms that would be more suited to practice, though the chapel would work in a pinch. The walls are thin here, and no one visits. As for materials, I think you’ll find that I can get you whatever you need without ever leaving the passages.” Draco and Narcissa would be easy enough to enlist for help. They always had been for delivering his letters to the proprietors and other musicians that he’d been helping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m free most nights after dinner and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waved her off even though she couldn’t see him. “Believe me when I say I know the comings and goings of this place as intimately as you do. Give me two days to gather what we need to start. You’ll find everything you need and where to meet me the morning of our first lesson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok then, easy enough. But what in the world should I call you? I’m not going to call you angel or phantom, that quite frankly is ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him his name. He almost forgot it was a thing people normally did. “Lucius,” he finally said, deciding it wouldn’t be worth it to push and have her call him something impersonal like teacher or maestro, or whatever else. No, he wanted this girl to give herself over to him, to help shape her and remold her into something spectacular, and he couldn’t do that without her complete and total trust. His real name was a first step to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, Lucius, I will see you in a few days then.” And he heard footsteps retreating from the chapel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at the wall for a long few moments. This was truly the beginning of something spectacular, he knew, but he also had a feeling that he had no idea what he had just gotten himself into. Hermione Granger seemed to be a force of nature in her own right even at seventeen. Just what in the world would she be like when she was older? What would giving her the courage and talent to sing on stage unlock in her? He smiled. He didn’t know, but somehow, she reminded him just a bit of Narcissa at the same age, fire and passion and drive. And knowing Narcissa had been the greatest blessing of his life. Perhaps this would be the same. He could only hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And speaking of Narcissa. His eyes widened. How long had it been? She had wanted him before he had disappeared into the walls again. He hurried down the passage. Perhaps she wasn’t yet asleep and he could make good on what he had started in the hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mother!” She heard pounding feet behind her to accompany the shout from her son. She stopped walking and let him catch up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, darling?” She cocked an eyebrow at him. Usually after rehearsal ended he went off to eat lunch with friends and hang out before the night’s performance. Normally she wouldn’t see him again until dinner at the earliest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I talk to you in your office for a minute?” He wiped sweat from his brow and rubbed it into his tights. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. He’d taught him better than that, but he was a teenaged boy so close to grown. At this point any nagging of manners would probably induce some sort of teenage rebellion, though the odds of that were getting smaller by the day. He’d been practically insufferable through the ages of fourteen and fifteen, but seventeen, soon eighteen found him much more agreeable, though still very quick to roll his eyes at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And will you be joining me for lunch or is this just a quick chat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on what you’re having.” His eyes lit up just a little bit and Narcissa laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll send a note down to the kitchens to send us up some of your favorites.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then yes, I’ll join you for lunch.” He smiled widely and followed her to her office much like a puppy would follow its owner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Teenage boys were simple, feed them and they loved you forever. At least for a time. Though Lucius was a grown man and he wasn’t much different in that aspect. There was indeed truth to the old adage that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. She sent off a message boy to the kitchens and then they both settled down into chairs to wait for their food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you want to talk about?” Narcissa asked, stretching out her leg. It had been bothering her more with the changing of the season. Winter somehow was always the easiest on her despite the cold, summer caused the worst of the aches, and transitioning into spring as they were now, she always forgot just how much pain the aches could cause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco looked at her with concern. “Are you ok, mother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waved him off. “Nothing debilitating, though perhaps if you could escort me home after the performance that would be appreciated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded immediately. “Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that we’ve established that I’m not going to suddenly lose my ability to walk.” She looked at him significantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up straighter. “Oh, right.” Draco scratched the back of his neck for a moment before he found the words he wanted. “I know that you pick the best of the dancers here to be in the main corps…” he trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?” Because that sentence was just begging for a but at the end. She set her head on her hand, leaning on the chair arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But, honestly, I think that perhaps...well, I think Hermione is more than skilled enough to be brought up to the corps level and I like dancing with her so much better than I like dancing with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pansy</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” His face scrunched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah yes, the girl did have a rather unfortunate crush on her son. She hadn’t quite gotten the message after two years that he was rather more inclined towards the masculine. Watching Draco squirming out of her grasp after the end of every routine they shared had her on edge at first, but he had proved more than adept at shirking her at a moment’s notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You seem more than capable of handling her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can handle her, yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>rather</span>
  </em>
  <span> be paired with Hermione and the fact that Hermione dances just as well as Pansy, if not better considering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is rather distracted by your muscles during rehearsal,” Narcisaa couldn’t help but tease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother,” he groaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waved away his petulance. “To be honest with you Draco, she is good enough. I was considering bringing her up to the main corps before the beginning of this season.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was six months ago! I’ve never known you to sit on a dancer that long even when you were on the fence about them. Six months in and you’d’ve run some sort of tests to see if they really were worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. He had a fair point. Most of her dancers grew up here, handed off to the opera at a young age for training in hopes one day they would make it as a star, or at the very least to get rid of a hungry mouth to feed. She knew their skill levels, knew when the right time to move them along was, it was her job after all, and she was the best there was. But Hermione was a special case for one reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t on the fence about her, you are right. She is good. But right as a spot for her opened up with Fantine leaving she came into other duties. I didn’t want to overwhelm her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius hadn’t exactly been forthcoming to their son about the lessons with Hermione. He was too wrapped up in his own little musical world of promise. She loved to watch him in that state, he seemed the most alive then, but he wasn’t exactly talkative. Oh if Draco had asked point blank, he would have gladly explained, but Draco had to know to ask. And if she was guessing correctly Hermione herself hadn’t exactly been forthcoming either. Who would admit to a man behind a wall teaching her to sing? It was something almost out of an opera, after all, hardly believable, but good drama.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Other duties?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So that confirmed he didn’t know. “Draco, you never told your father that Hermione could sing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squinted. “I mean she can, she’s about as good as I am. She’s not going to be selling out any concerts, but she can carry a tune.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how long did your father work with you on your singing?” She watched him, waiting for the shoe to drop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Oh I guess she’s never had any singing lessons unless she was really young. And she’s probably forgotten them all for now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa nodded and reached out to run her fingers through his still sweat dampened hair. “Indeed, but she still sounds as good as you, who had years of instruction. What exactly do you think that means about how she could sound with your father as a teacher?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face scrunched again, but this time with a fond look in his eyes. “Well, if she can get around just how much father loves to shout sing! At the top of his lungs without really telling you what he wants, she would be...well she would be a damned sight better than Lavender, oh excuse me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>La Carlotta</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Language, darling, but you’re not wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did father even hear her sing? Mostly I hear her sing when we’re all out having a good time. I once heard father muttering about how our drunken singing was an ‘abomination and if he had his way we’d all not sully the great name of music.’” He mimed flicking a cape dramatically behind him and Narcissa laughed. Draco was much more like his father than he wanted to believe. He did not get his flair for the dramatic from her, oh no. That was all Lucius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe she was singing to her father in the chapel. You say she goes down there a lot to light a candle for him. I heard her and stopped to listen. Your father also happened to be wandering the halls in the same space.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was he doing there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa shrugged. “I’ve never asked him these questions. I imagine staying down in our home would get rather boring. What more motivation does he need?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement of the point. “So he’s teaching her now? For the entirety of this last six months?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For most of it, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to hound her mercilessly over not telling me. I’m her best friend for goodness sake. She should clearly tell me everything.” He rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be fair, would you tell anyone about your father if you didn’t know who knew of him and who didn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time he begrudgingly nodded. “Fair enough, I suppose. What is he pretending to be some sort of angel of music? Did that even work on Hermione? I can’t imagine it did.” He snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told him not to, but he still tried it.” She shook her head. When Lucius got an idea into his head… “It didn’t work out as you said. She rather quickly called him out on it. Your father admitted rather quickly that he was no more than a man behind a wall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Hermione has always been special. But why would father teaching her affect her being promoted to the main corps?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think back on your own lessons before he decided that while you had talent, you were much better at dancing than anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco thought back. It had been more than a few years since Lucius had given up on intensive lessons. Now Draco just joined him whenever he felt like. He still played the piano beautifully and he was indeed more than passable at singing. She knew that Lucius treasured those moments more than he would ever say, even if he still longed for someone that shared his deep abiding love of music instead of the love of a passionate amateur which both she and Draco most certainly were in comparison to Lucius. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I suppose that was actually most of my day when I was younger. I guess I didn’t really notice the switch over to dance since those lessons increased right around the same time that father realized I was never going to be the next Mozart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa shrugged her shoulders elegantly. “You inherited my love of movement, not your father’s golden ear. Art is art as far as I’m concerned. Your father thinks so too, really, underneath the dramatics, as long as it gives you something to live for and fills your soul.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco nodded, a smile on his face. She’d known long before Lucius had that he would take after her. He had danced around inside of her even before he was born. Had moved and shook his way out of her arms as she held him, and had spun around with the delight of a toddler to the music on stage whenever she took her eyes off him for more than a second. He was a born dancer, and he lived for it, even if he was here complaining about his dance partner for the time being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Giving Hermione time to get used to balancing her responsibilities now with your father’s lessons seemed like a boon. From what you’ve told me Ms. Granger likes to excel in all things, but it would be unfair to throw being in the main corps on top of lessons with your father without giving her a bit of time and breathing room to learn how to deal with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She laughed quietly, remembering years ago when she was even younger than Hermione and Lucius was even younger still, how long it had taken her to get used to how he wanted to do things. He was always so stubborn and yet so skittish then. The stubbornness had stayed, the skittishness had retreated into the background. He begged her to take him to the organ in the opera, begged her for sheet music, begged her to learn anything he could. Not that she had known much, but she had tried. The amount of times he had corrected her had sent her away fuming more than once, but he had always been right. He was the one with the intuitive grasp of music and she was no more than a chorus girl with just enough knowledge of music to come in on cue. It had taken years for her to truly appreciate him, but now those first memories not long after she had rescued him were precious, their rocky beginning that led them to the gilded now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine,” Draco said, “it wasn’t a bad idea, but it’s been six months, can you please, please move her up soon? Even better if you pair her with me.” He gave her those puppy dog eyes that he knew she couldn’t resist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about this. The season will end in less than three months. I’ll bring Hermione into the main corps before the next season starts. It will give her more than enough time to learn to deal with your father that those lessons will become the easy thing about her day.” Being in the main corps after being a reserve dancer was a new kind of hell for any dancer, even a skilled one, and she knew she was not a forgiving ballet mistress. It made her whole troupe better, so why sacrifice that? Most of her dancers appreciated it in the end. Most. And she could most assuredly live with that.  “Does that sound agreeable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco sighed and flung himself backwards into his chair, sinking down until he was halfway to the floor. “Fine, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You realize that since the choreography was already set for the rest of the shows for the season, you would be stuck with Pansy anyway, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not if Pansy had an unfortunate accident that I had nothing at all to do with,” Draco murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa snorted. There was definitely no denying he was her and Lucius’s child. “Fair enough, I suppose. I would have paired Hermione with you if that happened, but pull that before Hermione joins and I’ll pair you with Astoria.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up so quickly that he actually ended up on the floor in a tangle of limbs. “You wouldn’t!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smirked down at him. “Oh, but Draco, darling, you know I would.” Pansy at least knew how to dance for all that she clung to Draco. Astoria, on the other hand...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groaned and flopped down on the floor. “You would. And Father would laugh along with you. Such woeful, evil parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure we are, dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knock at the door of her office. Draco was up and opening it with the speed of a hungry teenage boy knowing there was food on the other side. He took the tray from one of the kitchen girls with a smile that had the girl blushing. Sometimes Narcissa was glad that her son wasn’t attracted to women. Goodness knew she might already have a grandchild on the way if he did, more than enough girls were willing. Life was about small blessings she supposed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco shut the door and set down their food. He dove in straight away, grabbing a plate and shoveling food on like the world was going to end shortly. She laughed quietly and took her own plate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, enough talk about work, tell me about that boy I saw you with the other night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco blushed and shoved a bite of food in his mouth so he could have time to think. Oh, she’d thought as much. She smiled at her son and waited. She would be the information she wanted. She always did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione made her way into one of the long forgotten practice rooms that Lucius had led her to months ago with very carefully drawn directions. All the stairs to get down there were not doing her any favors after today’s practice. She had a feeling that Mistress Black was testing her more and more for a promotion to the main corps for the new season that started in a few weeks. The amount of attention she had gotten from the Mistress de Ballet had outstripped anything she’d ever received before, and the routines she was given to learn were more complicated than the reserve parts she had been assigned up until now. Which led to her aching all over, having used muscles she wasn’t even sure she had until now. At least she’d brought a chair down to the room so she could sit while Lucius was talking. Maybe sing while sitting, though he somehow always knew and chided her for it. She didn’t much hear the difference in her singing standing or sitting, but he did, even through a wall. She wondered idly just what her father would’ve thought of Lucius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here,” she said to the empty room as she crossed the threshold and closed the door. No matter how early she arrived he was always here first. Half the time there was even new music on the stand in the room that faced the wall that she supposed he was behind based on where his voice came from. She had looked and looked for an entrance to some secret passage around the room, but she hadn’t been able to find it yet. It had almost been a year now, and she was desperately curious to figure out just who Lucius was beyond a voice in a wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, good, we’ve much to get through today,” Lucius said, already in business mode.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione was used to it. Until he deemed their lesson over for the night he was straightforward and no nonsense sometimes to the point of driving her mad. She couldn’t deny the amount of progress she’d made in a year, however, so she mostly bit her tongue. Mostly. He was her teacher and he deserved some respect, but she wasn’t a wilting flower either. No one could be and survive in the opera house, especially as a dancer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked over the music sitting on the stand and hummed. It was all pieces she’d been working on previously that Lucius hadn’t quite thought she’d perfected yet. Fair enough, she wasn’t really in the mood to stumble through anything new right now anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where do you want me to start?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would think warm ups would come first wouldn’t you?” His tone of voice clearly communicated that he was looking at her with a cocked eyebrow and more than a bit of attitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione rolled her eyes. He was in one of his moods then. She always wondered what set him off. Surely it wasn’t her, she’d said less than ten words to him. What in the world went on behind the walls to cause him to be in such a state. Did his favorite rat die? Or perhaps a favored spider? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was mostly asking for after the warmup,” Hermione said instead, keeping her voice level. “I haven’t forgotten the importance of a good warm up. You spent the beginning of our first week of lessons lecturing on it.” After that it was rather hard to forget. Who in their right minds could speak so long talking about the merits of ‘vocal chord care.’ Then again, he was hiding behind a wall. So. There was that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The aria from La Traviata, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded and shuffled the papers around. She liked the piece so it didn’t bother her at all to start with it. She launched into her warm ups on autopilot. She had done them so many times at this point that she had caught herself waking from a dream, mouthing the nonsense words the Lucius was convinced helped loosen up the correct muscles for pitch control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” Lucius said when she was finally through. “From the beginning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was three bars into it before he stopped her. She scowled at the wall, annoyed. He hadn’t even let her really get into it. How in the world did he know what she was doing wrong yet?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, no, you sound like a mouse again, just barely making a sound. We have been over this, you have to fill the hall with sound, back to the rafters. In a room this tiny you should sound like a chorus of a hundred women.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And if there was any sentiment she heard from him more than any other, it was this one. Be louder, project more, breathe from your stomach, everyone in the house has to hear you, and on. She took a deep breath and started again, louder this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She got farther in, a whole six bars before she went flat on a note and she stopped half a second before he called for her to do so. This was not going to be a triumphant lesson where she did more right than wrong then. She sighed. Well then, by the end of this she was going to want to strangle Lucius and he would probably feel much the same. She understood that struggling through was part of the learning process and everything, but that didn’t mean that she actually liked feeling it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you know what you did wrong, I heard you stop. Again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And their practice continued much in that same vein. She would sing a few bars and then be stopped in the middle, sometimes she wasn’t even sure what for until Lucius told her. She was glad sometimes that he couldn’t see her because at points the faces she would make at him would’ve gotten her some sort of unsavory punishment for sassing her instructor. But it was either make faces at the wall or roll her eyes so much they might get stuck there. Well, both really, but letting herself vent the frustration then and there meant that by the time she was back up in the main opera house again she could brush off the lesson, chat with Draco for a bit, perhaps find something interesting to do if he had any devious plans, or just curl up with a book and read. Then the next day she would come in eager to learn again. She knew Lucius really didn’t mean to be so testy, he was just passionate. She far from blamed him, but still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One last time, then we’ll be done for the night,” Lucius finally said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked at the wall suspiciously. Those were famous last words in the opera house. One last time could mean one last time, but usually they meant at least another ten times before they were truly done. Though Madame Black didn’t say they were done until they were truly done, she was an exception to the rule. It most likely helped that she was the ballet mistress instead of anyone related to the actual conducting of the opera. She even remembered her father teasing her that musicians never really meant it when they said one last time when she pouted at him that he had promised only one last time through the piece he was practicing and then they could go out into the gardens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She went through the piece one last time and it felt like every note that Lucius had given her throughout the evening had actually clicked into place. He didn’t stop her the entire time and she was almost giddy by the end. She had made it through the whole piece and she had actually sounded pretty good doing it! There were some places she knew needed improvement, but compared the year before? It was like night and day, and suddenly all the frustration was worth it and she felt lighter than air as she finally cut off the last note.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was silence for a few seconds before she heard the sound of clapping from behind the wall. “Wonderful, you’ve made a lot of progress. We still have more to go before you’re ready for the stage, but you are exceeding even my expectations for where you would be now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just like that his mood had evaporated in the face of her improvement. She would take it. “Thank you,” she said, shuffling the music back together and then tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a quiet sigh behind the wall, so quiet Hermione wondered if she even heard it. “Are you alright?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm? Oh, yes, I...I’m fine. It’s just been a long few days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione found herself walking towards the walls, as if she could truly get closer to him. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just some minor disagreements with my wife. I don’t want to fight anymore, but when it comes to music I seem to not be able to control my words.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a wife?” How in the world did one find a wife when you never emerged from behind a wall?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.” And there was a fond smile in his voice. “She’s the love of my life and had given me more than I ever thought possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it pains you to fight with her.” She could only imagine. She’d never really dated anyone, but from all the love stories she read, it sounded terrible to fight with the one who held your heart. She imagined it was even worse for Lucius. How many people did he really know?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had talked after lessons most nights, but mostly of mundane things. She got the sense that he was very slow to trust and open up. Considering everything, it wasn’t really surprising. But now she wasn’t truly sure how to handle if he opened up to her further. She didn’t want to see him clam up again, to cause yet another problem when he was already dealing with a big one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It truly does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk about it?” Because honestly, that was all she could think to say. It seemed to be the right thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...I think I do,” Lucius said after a long silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sank down onto the floor, resting her back against the wall. “Do you know where to begin or would you like me to ask questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know where to start, I’m just trying to figure out how to explain it.” There was a heavy sigh and sounds like Lucius was pacing behind the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she waited for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of steps going back and forth behind her. She closed her eyes. She really was tired and it was getting late, even for opera house standards. She really should get her rest now before the season started and it was go, go, go until Christmas and the holiday break. But no, she had promised to listen, and what was losing sleep for one night in exchange for helping a...friend? Perhaps. Mentor definitely fit, but she doubted she would sit down with Madame Hooch after a grueling dance session to figure out what her problems were. It was different, somewhere in-between, this thing with Lucius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re actually fighting over you, I suppose is the best way to put it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sat up straighter. “If she thinks we’re spending too much time together and that something untoward is happening--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” he interrupted before Hermione could go on. “Her trust in me for such things is absolute. She well knows my...reticence about being seen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you meet her then?” Hermione couldn’t help but ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is...a long story. Suffice to say that she was the one who brought me here and showed me that there was safety within these walls, years ago now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Well. I’m glad she found you and brought you here. I’m glad you’re safe.” She relaxed back against the wall. If his wife didn’t think he was cheating, at least that was a load off her mind. She had no idea what Lucius even looked like or how old he was. It was ridiculous to think that about, really. Just…ridiculous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am as well. I cannot begin to imagine what life would have been like without her. I don’t want to, really. Such imaginations are in the past and they have never gotten me anywhere good. I am very much trying to remember such resolutions currently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If she doesn’t think we’re together, then why fight over me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know that I am aware of everything that goes on in the opera house, yes?” His pacing stopped right behind Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, probably not everything, but you do seem to have a good grasp on everything important with the running of the house and the shows, and the interpersonal gossip that affects those two things. But I highly doubt you know when a chorus girl sleeps with a stagehand. Quite frankly, I’d rather not even know about that, and I live with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would be surprised how much of even that drivel I know of, but yes, I am not omniscient. I just know what walls to stand behind to get the information I need.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just how many tunnels are in this place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius laughed. “Many more than you, or anyone else alive, knows about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few moments of silence again and she heard Lucius start to pace again. “I’m sure you’re aware that Madame Black is on the cusp of promoting you, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “I had a suspicion. The practices recently have been much harder than previously.” In fact sitting on the cold stone floor was not doing anything for her muscles, but dragging the chair over to the wall right now was out of the question. She might miss something Lucius said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told my wife that I was worried that having responsibilities in the main corps on top of our lessons wouldn’t give you enough time to focus on the music. We’ve been fighting over it ever since. She claims she’s given you more than enough time to get used to balancing our lessons on top of your dance duties and that you are not a layabout and will be fine with an increased schedule and that more time on the stage won’t harm you for when our lessons bare fruit, but it’s barely been a year and you’ve progressed so well, but now isn’t the stage to change anything. I don’t necessarily disagree with her point that more time on the stage would do you good, but next season at the earliest I think would be the best option, but she won’t hear about it. For the last week we’ve done nothing but fight about it every time she’s been down in our rooms and I want to stop but, your singing abilities are truly special. What if this leads to a delay, or worse, a regression, or even worse still, what if you injure yourself dancing and then you aren’t fit for stage at all? There are so many ways it could go wrong. Why change something now before the groundwork is truly even set?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione thought about what Lucius was saying as he rambled on. Quite frankly she had thought she would be pulled to the corps a lot sooner than this year, last year at the very latest, but she had just started her lessons with Lucius. What if the delay had been based on that? It had probably been wise. The first month or two trying to find a rhythm between lessons and shows and more lessons had been a bit rough, but she was good with time management and everything had settled down rather quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will be an adjustment,” Hermione said slowly, “but I think pushing me in one area of art can only help with singing as well. Just think about dancing a whole show and how much that will increase my stamina and lung capacity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, she had already danced whole shows before, in reserve positions, but the reserve positions were never as demanding as the corps parts. Lucius didn’t say anything in response, however, so Hermione pushed on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t say that it won’t take some adjustment and there won’t be a few bad lessons here and there at the beginning, but I am committed to this wholeheartedly, just as I’m committed to being the best dancer I can be. I don’t do things by half, Lucius, it’s just not who I am as a person. As for injury, well, I could be injured in a reserve part just as easily. I dance just as much, if not more at points than the main corps, considering all the time they spend standing around while setting places on stage. The reserve is usually in lessons then unless we have a part. Life is unpredictable. I could break my leg going upstairs later tonight. It shouldn’t stop me from going further in my career.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I...suppose not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if it truly affects my singing, we’ll revisit everything and try to work something out that works better. Nothing is set in stone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed heavily. “So my wife was right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t they always?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius laughed quietly. “I suppose they are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sat there for a second thinking. His wife, if she cared enough to argue with Lucius for a week about her promotion into the main corps, it followed that she was probably a member of the dance staff. That made sense considering Lucius was here at the opera house. She couldn’t imagine his wife would have brought him here if she wasn’t connected to the house in some way or another. Madame Hooch definitely wasn’t married. If Hermione had to guess she was very much in love with the fairer sex, to which she couldn’t blame the older woman. Women were wonderful, but she also found the same attraction in men. So that was one off the list. Everyone knew Madame Rosmerta's husband, he was a kindly man who worked down in the kitchens. Madame Trelawney was absolutely nutters, there was no way that she was married to Lucius of all people. Draco had been the only thing that had got her through the two years she spent under her tutelage. She had been ready to quit so many times those years. Had she not been fourteen and fifteen, she might just have. That left...no, really? Everyone knew she was married, and no one really knew whom she was married to, but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re married to Madame Black?” Hermione burst out, finally. Curiosity really might kill her one of these days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt Lucius freeze behind the wall. “I am…” He trailed off as if waiting to see what she would do with that information.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh god, if he was married to Madame Black then that meant. “You’re Draco’s father?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am.” And these words were happier. Clearly he loved his son. Good. Draco was her best friend and she would fight anyone who took issue with him, even his own father and her teacher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All these years, and Draco had never told her about the fact that his father literally stalked around behind the walls of the opera. That meant he had to know more secret passages than he even let on about. That little bastard. He was going to hear about this later, that was for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think you’re going to have to apologize to your wife since she was right. Can you get flowers from behind the walls? I mean I could run out for you tomorrow and pick something up, if you needed. I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being paid 20,000 francs a month more than makes up for the fact that I myself don’t leave the opera house, but thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione almost choked on the air she was inhaling. 20,000 francs? That was an insane amount of money! What did he even do with it all? It wasn’t like he had to pay for a house and those various expenses. Did he just have a pool of gold to swim in?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plus, I’ve actually been...well I’ve been writing her an opera. It’s a love story. I’ve got the arias from the first act done, I think.” Hermione heard rhythmic tapping on the stone and she got the impression that Lucius was bouncing on his toes. “It’s actually a dramatic reenactment of our love story, with things changed up and around of course. I wouldn’t want to give too much away, I don’t need the proprietors coming down to try and find me, but everything else is there. She rescued me, you know. I was, well I was sold to some unsavory characters when I was a baby, but Narcissa helped me escape and then led me here. Then she fed and clothed me and taught me the basics of music and helped me to grow into the man I am now. I just love her so much this opera is the least I can do, and I hope when it’s done she sees just how much I love her. I mean I tell her all the time and I sing to her whenever I get a chance and I love when she sing with me even more, but sometimes...I just don’t know if it’s enough. I just hope this is enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione felt her heart beating hard in her chest. That was just so sweet. He loved his wife so much, it was painfully obvious. And from her own interactions with Madame Black, she was always quietly happy. Well, happy when a dancer wasn’t drawing her ire. Hermione very rarely saw her with anything other than a small smile on her face when she was walking through the halls of the opera house. If she had to guess, she loved him just as much as he loved her, she was just less effusive about it. She had always been a reserved woman as long as Hermione could remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made her ache, she wished she had someone like Lucius that loved her as much as he did Madame Black. He was kind and passionate and so truly good. Perhaps it was good thing he never came out from behind the walls. If she found out he was handsome as well, she might have the biggest crush on him already. But she couldn’t have a crush on a married man who she’d never seen before, no. That wasn’t how it worked, of course not. Nevermind that she was sitting on the cold floor long past the point of aching. That was just for friendship. She would do this for Draco, of course. It only made sense that she would do it for his father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, as a final run through of the pieces, would you mind running through them at our next practice? I need to hear what they sound like to make sure they sound right before finalizing them and the music to go with them. Usually Narcissa sings the soprano pieces, but since I want this to be a surprise, that would defeat the purpose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Hermione said without thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful, wonderful! It will be different than our normal practice sessions, then, but not terribly. And it will be good practice in case you are ever under a maestro who likes to change things up to his liking even in classical pieces.” There was a note of disgust at the end. “Most hardly know what they’re doing, they just freely tool around with tradition without paying homage to why they worked that way in the first place, but that is not your problem so much as a cross you’ll have to bear working in the industry. The maestro we’ve had for the majority of your time here at the opera is mostly a coward who make no changes at all, which is bad in its own way. Classics are meant to be refreshed in some way, there is always a balance.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were a few mumbles that Hermione couldn’t quite hear even this close to the wall. Lucius had to be talking to himself. He generally knew just how loud he had to talk for her to understand through the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, I will bring the music tomorrow. While I make changes we can also go over music theory basics. That will also be beneficial for your education.” He clapped and bounced on his toes again. “Oh, I do so hope they are as good as I meant them to be. Narcissa deserves the best, and it will make tomorrow easier on you if I don’t absolutely abhor everything.” He laughed to himself. “It will be rather hard to communicate changes from behind a wall if I want you to scrap everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe bring extra parchment for me, just in case? I know the basics of music from father, so I should be able to change things readily enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, good, that will speed things along. Now if only we knew a violinist, that truly would hurry things along…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione laughed quietly and smiled. This man really was something. So much so that she just wasn’t going to think about it. That was for her own sanity, of course. She wasn’t about to have any inconvenient realizations that would complicate her life. It was already complicated enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Hermione said, pushing herself up from the floor with a quiet groan. So cold, so stiff. “I think you have apologies to tender, and I need to get some sleep before your wife has her way with me in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes, yes, it is getting rather late. Narcissa should be home.” There was a smile in his voice and Hermione was glad that talking to her had put it back in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, probably. I’ll see you, or well, talk to you tomorrow I suppose. I look forward to seeing the songs you wrote.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I look forward to working with you to make them better, Miss Granger. Have a good night.” His shoes tapped off into the distance and Hermione just stared at the wall for a few long seconds even after she couldn’t hear him anymore. Well then. She ran a hand through her hair and turned, finally walking from the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The truly important realization from the night was that Draco had </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> hidden that he knew about more hidden passages than he said he did. And the fact that he had hidden them had definitely prevented another load of mischief and probably baked goods they could have had. And he definitely had some explaining to do. She swept up the stairs and back up to the opera house. Draco was sure to still be around and he had little idea of what was coming for him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Symmetrical</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hermione was the first one to walk into the studio. She almost always was. She liked the occasional party, she truly did, but the others seemed to party more often than not. Since she usually only had a glass of wine while the festivities were starting up every night before slipping off to bed, she was the only one who really woke up on time. Not that Madame Black hadn’t obviously made accomodations for such things, she was sure that practice officially started about twenty minutes before the Ballet Mistress ever truly wanted to get anything done, but Hermione didn’t get the impression that she would ever tell any of her dancers that. Still, she had only seen the older woman truly incensed when Pansy had shown up forty minutes late, clearly just having woken up and definitely hung over. Those who had shown up fifteen minutes late that same day had only gotten a disapproving glare. So there was a time to show up before that wasn’t advertised, but it wasn’t as if Hermione had to worry about it, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat on the ground and started to run through some warm up stretches. She lost herself in the movements, long familiar to her. Long before coming to the opera house she had been a morning person, but now, in the minutes before rehearsal began, it seemed to be the only truly quiet time she got. So she cherished it, letting her mind wander. She had moved on with Lucius now in lessons to more complicated arias, more complicated techniques. A year and a half in and she felt herself getting closer and closer to being ready for the stage. If Lavender got any more over the top in her antics Hermione had a feeling that Lucius might throw her out himself and put her onstage even before she was ready. The public still seemed to love her though, but there was no accounting for the taste of the masses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She found herself thinking more about Lucius than she was really thinking about what they would be working on in their lesson later today. They had stayed late after the lesson was over the night before, talking. He had opened up more and more over the last six months, especially when they were working on pieces from his opera from Narcissa. He told her all sorts of stories of when they were younger and his first terrible attempts to woo her. She’d managed to badger the story of the proposal out of him too which had an almost comical amount of errors in the days leading up to it, including Lucius accidentally elbowing Madame Black in the eye trying to open an entrance to a secret passage that had gotten stuck such that her eye was black during the proposal and the boat he planned on proposing springing a leak right before he was about to get down on one knee. She had stopped herself time and time again from wishing that she was--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Hermione, first as always, I see,” Madame Black said, striding into the room, voice approving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione jumped just a little. She really hoped that Madame Black hadn’t noticed that. “Good morning, Madame Black.” She looked up at the other woman, walking around the room, barely using her cane, smiling. She was in a very good mood today. Hermione wondered idly what had put the smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pushed herself up and began some more intensive warm up exercises while Madame Black readied her materials for the day. She sat at the piano, humming quietly as she arranged the music. They were practicing Il Travatore now and opening was in a week. It was truly crunch time, but Lavender was having one of her famous diva outbursts and fully stage rehearsals had ground to a halt the day before. Considering how often such fits happened, Madame Black had just instructed them to meet at the studio. She had thought that it would put the Ballet Mistress into a mood considering they really should be doing other things besides studio work, but here she was, happy as a clam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What has you in such a good mood, Madame Black?” She asked after pausing to think about the question. Madame Black wasn’t unfriendly, really, just more closed off than others in the opera house. Her marriage to Lucius truly made sense in a way. Who better to open up someone living behind walls than someone who had walls themselves? But since learning more about her past with Lucius, Hermione swore that she felt more warmth from the woman, trapped under a thin, cool exterior. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing special really, my husband just surprised me with a gift this morning, he says it’s part of a bigger surprise that will be ready for our anniversary. It just...reminded me of how much I care for him, I suppose. One is always happiest when remembering to love what’s in front of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione couldn’t disagree with the sentiment. And it absolutely melted her to see just how much Narcissa loved Lucius. To anyone else it might not be obvious, but her smile and her eyes glowed with pure love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds wonderful,” Hermione said, starting to lose her breath now that she was moving around more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It truly was.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long silence and Hermione continued to warm up and no one else trickled into the studio. Hermione wondered if everyone had just gone particularly hard the night before or if </span>
  <em>
    <span>La Carlotta</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she rolled her eyes at the stupid fake name, had finally gotten her act together and a full rehersal was back on again and no one had seen fit to inform them yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How many of them do you think were too hungover this morning to remember where we were supposed to meet?” Madame Black asked, mirroring Hermione’s thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Draco would’ve gotten it right, surely.” He had come to bed not long after her, he was just horrid at getting up in the mornings. It would take more of the company up and moving around to finally rouse him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is true. I suppose if anything of note is truly going on, someone will fetch us or perhaps the walls will talk to us. I swear that is how gossip gets around this place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, it’s almost like a phantom lives in them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black’s eyes twinkled at Hermione’s reply. “Yes, almost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione finished her usual warm up, but still, no one else was there. Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be going on. She almost felt compelled to go see what it was, but she didn’t want to just leave with Madame Black there. She found the older woman’s eyes on her and she felt her stomach flip. Of course she’d looked at Hermione before, that was part of being in a class instructed by her, but now there was no one else in the room. It felt more intense than normal. If she hadn’t already been sweating before, she definitely was now. What could it mean?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re warmed up and I’d hate for you to have to warm up again once everyone deigns to join us. You’re familiar with the solo from this piece, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded. She had seen it enough times in practice that she could recreate it. It probably wouldn’t be perfect the first time out, though. She felt the butterflies in her stomach intensify. She was in the room, alone with Madame Black, about to dance a solo. It wasn’t a difficult one, really, but what if she messed it up? She thought she’d been doing well in the main corps and the transition over had been smooth even with Lucius’s lessons to account for, but what if she was wrong? What if she danced and Madame Black hated it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t overthink it, Ms. Granger, believe me when I say I don’t expect perfection the first time out, but even if I did, you would come much closer than some of your peers.” She waved her on and Hermione had no choice but to start dancing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black played the intro cue to the solo and Hermione launched herself into the solo. It wasn’t one of the particularly hard solos of ballet, but still it was an unfamiliar routine. She felt herself stumble more than once, nothing heinous, but she could feel her face morphing into a scowl. She had never liked doing things by half. Nevermind that this was her first time dancing this solo. She felt as if she needed to stop and start over again and fix her mistakes, but Madame Black was still playing on. And perhaps if Madame Black wasn’t there to watch her, she might not have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> as hard on herself, but she really did want to impress the ballet Mistress. She had taken a chance on Hermione to move her up to the main corps and she gave up hours of time with Lucius for her to have her singing lessons too. She just wanted to be her best for this woman, and right now she wasn’t doing her best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh Granger, you’re making a mockery of that solo. If that’s how well you can dance, I don’t even begin to understand why you’re in the corps. I guess it’s just because you’re little Draco’s friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione caught a glimpse of Pansy as she executed a turn, but Madame Black had yet to stop playing, so she kept on dancing. She wasn’t afraid of Pansy. The girl was one of the better dancers in the company, but right now that wasn’t saying much. Hermione could remember years past where the main corps was amazing, but most of those dancers had now gotten married and moved on, gotten injured, or had just gotten too old and retired and going off elsewhere to be dance instructors and the like. She had some hope for the dancers who were a bit younger than herself, but those who made up the corps now just weren’t the cream of the crop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She saw Pansy’s face twist into a sneer as she didn’t stop dancing at her cruel words. “You might as well just shit on the stage Granger, that’s how bad you’re doing. Just because Draco didn’t have the brains to fuck me instead of you doesn’t mean that you can just have whatever part you want, you actually have to have some skill. God, what’s next are you going to fuck the owner so you can get on the stage and replace Carlotta?” She snorted. “As if, you’re dumb and ugly and have no stage prescence. No one would ever pay to see you sing. At least as long as you’re kept in the back of the corps you won’t scare too many of the ticket holders away. Draco has to be the dumbest man in the world for taking you to bed instead of me. I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s not like his mother is the smartest either, putting you with him during the partner dances. She’s got to be one of the worst ballet mistresses ever to not see that I’m better than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was the sound of a cane banging harshly on the floor just before the music stopped and a deadly silence fell over the room. Hermione stopped dancing and turned just in time to see the instant that Pansy lost all color in her face. The only one in the opera that banged their cane on the floor like that was Madame Black when the company was especially difficult to get the attention of, and it worked every single time for the woman. Pansy must not have deigned to look at who was playing the piano. Most rehearsals it was someone from the orchestra who played for them and they did usually melt into the wall for all the personality they brought to the space filled with diva-prone dancers, but since it was so close to performance all the orchestra was off in the pit doing their last run throughs, hoping maybe that one day Lavender would get her shit together and they could have a full stage rehearsal like they were supposed to. The other dancer must have forgotten that fact, must have thought Madame Black was late to her own lesson, which hadn’t happened as long as Hermione had been there. And she was supposedly the pathetically dumb one if she was reading between the lines of Pansy’s tirade correctly. At least she knew to double check that the person she was going to talk about wasn’t in the room, especially if it was someone in charge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ms. Parkinson, a pity you feel that way,” Madame Black said, her voice cold as the winter wind outside. “As I recall, it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>choice to even promote you to the corps four years ago. In fact it was our dear owner who commanded me to do so. Perhaps you’re accusing Ms. Granger of doing something that I’m already quite sure you’ve done. Tell me, do you still keep his bed warm? Because I highly doubt that. His favor has slipped from you to one of the costumers assistants, yes? You aren’t young enough anymore to satisfy his tastes. And there are rumors that our dear owner won’t be sticking around much longer. So if you were counting on any lingering fondness of his for keeping your job after continuing to say whatever it is you please, don’t count on it for much longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione watched the woman with wide eyes as Madame Black rose without the assistance of her cane and strode over to Pansy. She was a couple inches taller than Pansy, yet despite the small difference, she loomed over the younger woman. Hermione felt her heart beating hard in her chest as she watched the woman defend her and also take Pansy down a needed few pegs. She could swear she was breathing harder now than when she had been dancing just a minute before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And for your information, Ms. Parkinson?” Madame Black’s voice dropped to a cutting whisper. “You’ve had a month of practice to get the solo right. That was the first time Ms. Granger’s even attempted it. As far as I could see? You weren’t much better than her. Perhaps you should think about that next time you open your mouth to criticize Ms. Granger, my son, or myself. I know talent when I see it, and I also know little girls who think they are oh so clever trying to get their way that nothing bad will ever happen to them. Oh, but in life there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> consequences for your actions.” Madame Black turned to Hermione. “Hermione, you’ll be dancing the solo from now on. Ms. Parkinson, you’ll be the one relegated to the back of the company. If you step even one toe out of line during this show, the entire time, the entire run, I do not care who you slept with to get where you are now, it will be my mission to not only make sure you lose your position here but you won’t be able to find a position elsewhere. Not that I think I would need to do much to make sure of that. You would already more than cover that with the pathetic excuse you call ballet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s face had become whiter and whiter during the entire rant. Hermione was sure she would get some kind of retribution on her later to make up for the humiliation. She wondered idly about which possessions of hers she would find ruined ‘mysteriously,’ but honestly it was worth it. Everyone in the company hated </span>
  <em>
    <span>La Carlotta</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but right behind her was Pansy in the tally of people who despised her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black bent even closer to Pansy and whatever she said next Hermione couldn’t hear, but Pansy looked as if she was about to faint. Hermione tilted her head slightly to the side. What in the world could have frightened her that badly. Madame Black was terrifying in rehearsal, yes, but otherwise she was just a normal woman for the most part. She loved her son and her husband and had friends among the opera company, even as reserved as she was. It wasn’t as if she was someone to fear bodily harm from. Then again, with the rumors that swirled around the things that Lucius was capable of, perhaps it wasn’t Madame Black that was threatening to do the bodily harm, but maybe she was warning Pansy of her connection to Lucius. That would make sense. Pansy seemed to be the one most affected by the rumors of the Phantom every time they came up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day, I’m far too disgusted with you to be productive with you in the room.” She made a dismissive hand gesture and Hermione swallowed hard. A hand gesture wasn’t supposed to make her stomach swoop low in her body, but it did. Just how worked up was she from seeing Madame Black defend her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy fled the room on pounding feet and Hermione wondered if she would even see the woman again in the next week. She almost snorted at the thought. Coward. Though considering just how fiercely Madame Black had gone after her, perhaps she wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much of a coward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black turned back to Hermione once Pansy was gone. “Are you alright, Hermione?” Her voice held nothing of the ice it had just a moment before. In fact she almost sounded concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione felt her heart in her throat now. She swallowed hard to try and dissipate the feeling but it persisted. She would just have to speak around it then. “Pansy’s been a bully as long as I’ve lived here. Honestly, that wasn’t even her worst tirade against me. You should have heard when I was moved up into the advanced class when I was thirteen and she was still there at seventeen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black frowned. “Perhaps that should have been the first sign that she was never meant to be a dancer. By seventeen if you have any real talent you should be in the reserve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean she did move into the reserve a few months later, but…” Hermione trailed off. Madame Black wasn’t really</span>
  <em>
    <span> wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> about Pansy. She always had wondered how she had gone from reserve to the main corps in only a year’s time. She supposed she had the answer now. Hermione wondered if Draco knew, because if he didn’t, he would be delighted to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beside the point.” She sighed heavily. “I do not know how they expect me to put together a good corps when she is somehow one of the better dancers in it and she barely qualifies as a dancer. What I wouldn’t give to have another thirty of you, Hermione. My life would be so much easier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And her heart rose so high in her throat she thought she would choke, and her stomach was probably in the bowels of the opera house. She had no idea why in the world she was feeling this way. The only other time she felt like this was during Lucius’s lessons before she’d decided that she was just going to shut all of those feelings--Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Well then. Wasn’t that symmetrical. Perhaps she just had a thing for teachers? That wouldn’t be the most surprising fact, really. She had always loved to learn. Granted this was a much different sort of learning, but still. Ironically this made her ever growing crush on Lucius somewhat easier to bear. If she had a crush on the both of them, that was better, right? It wasn’t like she was ever going to act on any of these feelings anyway. She would just shove this knowledge right down deep next to her crush on Lucius and then one day she would either forget about it or she would die. Whatever came first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco rushed into the room breathless. “Mother,” he gasped out. “Father has--” he stopped and looked at Hermione and froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on Draco, it’s not like Hermione doesn’t know about your father. What exactly has he done this time?” She sounded fondly exasperated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lavender tried to come back after she calmed down, but as soon as she walked into her dressing room it was filled with frogs with a note from him saying that she should keep them as pets since she sounded just like them. Then another note to the owner saying she needs replaced or else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “I know she’s particularly horrible in this production, but really, asking for a replacement now?” Madame Black glanced back at Hermione. “He would only have to drive off the replacement in a few years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco shrugged. “Maybe softening them up? Or maybe he just really wants them to whip her more in line. I’m hearing from the other chorus members that she’s being really difficult on this one and refusing to take any instruction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black rolled her eyes. “Of course she is. Stupid girl. And that Weasley boy isn’t much better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They make me want to gag every time they’re together. Like lovesick teenagers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, yes,” Hermione agreed. She wasn’t far from gagging either when she saw them, all curled together and cooing at each other, and the public displays of affection. She cringed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, the rest of the dancers, up trying to catch the frogs she undoubtedly let run amok?” Madame Black asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, not really sure if they’re helping to catch them, but they are watching the chaos.” He shrugged. “I came down here as soon as I figured out that Father was behind it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black sighed heavily. “Well then, I suppose I had better go put the fear of God into them.” She turned back to Hermione first. “But Hermione, I’ll talk to Lucius about co-opting some of your lesson time this week. You’ll need the extra practice for the solo, but there’s plenty of time between now and the opening for you to be a far better soloist than Pansy will ever be. Quietly frankly, I don’t think it will take you all that much effort.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione blushed at the praise and Draco waggled his eyebrows behind his mother’s back. That only made her blush harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, off to gather my very, very wayward flock.” And her voice was right back into being annoyed again. She strode from the room with the same confident strides she had used with Pansy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, she really is pissed if she isn’t feeling any pain from her leg,” Draco said, watching her disappear down the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She socked him in the arm for the eyebrow waggling. “Oh, you have no idea why she’s mad. You’re going to love it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco lit up, always loving a bit of gossip. “Do tell then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it has to do with Pansy,” she said as she launched into the explanation as Draco started to warm up. By the time the rest of the corps was in the room, Draco had laughed himself into a side stitch and Hermione herself was grinning. Of course had left the part out where she most certainly had a major crush on both his mother and father, but did such a satisfying story need such a confusing detail as that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black clapped her hands together and in an instant Hermione found herself standing straighter, waiting for the woman’s every word, and only then did she wonder just how long she’d had a crush on the woman without realizing it, because this was how she reacted every time to the woman, while her cohorts only begrudgingly ended their conversations. She inwardly groaned at herself. Why, oh, why did she have to make things harder on herself?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa walked into the room and as always this early before class, Hermione was the only one there. She was working on her newest solo for the upcoming season. She smiled at the woman as she completed a difficult set of moves, whipping around to beat only she could hear. Pansy Parkinson had done her quite the favor by showing her true colors. Oh she had known the woman was pathetic, but that wasn’t an disciplinable offense. Disparaging her and disrespecting her leadership on the other hand, well, no one had questioned why her solo was taken away after they heard what she had spit at Hermione, venom flying like rain. Then as she knew she would, Hermione had mastered the solo easily and had shown that she was one of the best, if not the best dancer in the corps even though she was only six months into her new promotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would rather be a shame when she lost Hermione after Lucius deemed her ready. If he held off for another couple of years, there were some promising young ones in the advanced group almost ready to move up to the reserve, that would be ready in a few years time, but if she was ready before that, unfortunately she was going to have to resort to using one of the girls she had. It wouldn’t, however, be Pansy ever again. She didn’t care if the corps was more of a disgrace than it had been for the last five years, the woman would never get a solo under her again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione stopped, done with one run through of her solo. “Morning, Madame Black,” she said between gulping breaths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Hermione. How goes it?” She looked the other woman up and down. From the sweat already soaking her tights she wondered just how long Hermione had been there that morning. Was she getting enough sleep? Her days were already so long between the practices with the corps and then Lucius and would only get longer in a month's time when the season finally began again. She seemed to worry more and more about the girl as the days went on, but Hermione had been handling the lessons on both ends for over a year in her position in the corps, and even longer overall. She was always bright and early and chipper. She supposed she should stop worrying, but she found she couldn’t. She truly enjoyed Hermione’s company in the early mornings. She could even admit they were almost like friends now, though she wouldn’t ever say as much, that would almost be like favoritism, but how could she not like the hard working girl that had Lucius with stars in his eyes about her skill. She was the first person that Lucius had truly connected to beside herself and Draco in years. Even if she didn’t know Hermione herself, she would still like the other woman for that. Lucius was so very isolated. He could always use more friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s ok.” She grimaced. “I’m working on that part right after the tandu, but something still isn’t right. I can’t put my finger on what, though. I’ve tried running it in the mirror, but I don’t see anything really wrong, but…” she trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know the feeling. It seemed every other show I had something that my body told me was wrong, but my eyes couldn’t find fault with. You’ve trained so much, however, that your body is almost always right. You just need outside eyes to tell you what it is. Run it again, I’m sure I’ll find the problem.” It was rather her job after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded and set herself up at the tandu and then threw herself into the routine. Narcissa watched her with careful eyes, watching her body, her posture, her footwork all at once. She was certainly in a good place for a month out from the show. Narcissa had no doubt that by the first show she’d be rather magnificent, but yes, watching her there was something tickling at the back of Narcissa’s mind. Something was off, but what? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hit Narcissa finally on the third repetition of a difficult jumping pass. “Stop,” she called out without raising her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione landed and instantly stopped where she was, holding her landing position easily. Ah, yes, it was here too. Something about how she was setting herself up for these jumps was throwing off her hip alignment just every so slightly, not enough to hurt upon landing, but enough to trigger Hermione’s sense that something wasn’t quite right. No one in the audience would have even noticed it, she was sure, but sometimes the smallest of changes led to the most gratifying results.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa walked over to Hermione and set her hands on her hips and straightened them out just ever so slightly and Hermione gasped. She felt her breath still in her throat. It wasn’t abnormal for her to correct her dancers by touching them. It was often the swiftest course of action than explaining what she wanted with words. A body had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> what was right before it could replicate the feeling. But Hermione’s skin was hot under hers and there was an electric charge to the touch that no casual touch in class had held before. She looked at the back of the other woman’s head and wondered. She only felt such electricity in a touch with Lucius and…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such a little adjustment, but it can throw you off your rhythm,” Narcissa said, voice quieter than she would have liked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I felt it immediately when you put me to rights,” Hermione said nodding. “If I can get this while pushing off, I think maybe I might actually be able to go higher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do have an impressive clearance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa felt Hermione move under her hands and it was only then that she realized that she was still holding on to the other woman. She cleared her throat quietly and stepped back. She had held onto her for entirely too long. Perhaps Hermione hadn’t noticed. She could only hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try the pass again and let’s see if that helps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione set herself up for the jumping run again. Narcissa watched carefully as she launched into the air. The first jump was wrong, but the second she corrected and then the third and its finally landing were perfect. Hermione looked to her with wide brown eyes, looking for feedback, open and earnest and hoping she had done it right and Narcissa had to curl her hand into a fist, stabbing her nails into her palm. She had had no doubt Lucius was head over heels in love with the girl from about the third month of their lessons on. He was always so exuberant and excited to tell her every single thing that she did, and she enjoyed hearing about it. She trusted Lucius, both because he would never cheat on her and because...well, when they had fallen in love she had practically had to hit him over the head to get him to recognize that she was in love with him and he with her. Most likely it was a side effect of his childhood and thinking himself unworthy, which broke her heart, it did, but it did lend a sense of peace to her knowing that she would never have to worry. But here she herself was, looking at this woman, only a year or so older than her own Draco, and the feelings flowing through her were not platonic in nature and she most assuredly didn’t need hit over the head to see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better,” she finally said after half a second too long. “The first jump was still off, but the second jump I could see you correcting and the third was perfect. Again until you get it right to my satisfaction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded and reset again. It took another ten minutes of run throughs before Narcissa waved her off. They still had a class to get through after all, and her passes were good enough for now. They could work on the fine details that watching her perform the move over and over again had shown her, but that was for closer to showtime, and not now when half the corps barely knew their parts. She trusted Hermione to work more on her own anyway, she was that type of woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl sauntered over to the wall closest to the piano and sank down, running through some stretches to help her muscles relax before class proceeded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Madame Black, that really does feel better now. I’m sure I’ll find something else wrong tomorrow, but that was the thing that was really bothering me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa glanced around and found that they were still alone. The first of the corps would be showing up any second, she was sure, late as always, but for now they were alone. “Please, when we’re alone you can call me Narcissa. Goodness knows my best dancer should have the privilege.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched as the other woman blushed slightly and looked away. Narcissa tilted her head, considering. Was that a reaction to the praise or to the familiarity, perhaps both? She could sense something more lying below the surface, but without the girl looking at her, she couldn’t put her finger on what. It was almost like she had some sort of feelings herself, but why would she? Narcissa knew her attraction to women as well as men was odd. Even growing up in as sexual a place as the opera house she had so rarely come across another woman who was sexually interested in women. Of course there was Bellatrix the costume designer, one of her closest and best friends, but Bella had always been so far outside of the mold it almost suited her. She had her suspicions about Andromeda, as well, but she had never admitted as much to Narcissa even during their quiet dinners away from the bustle of the rest of the house, talking over set plans for the upcoming shows. So in all this time, if she had only known one confirmed woman like herself, the odds that Hermione was like her, slim to none. She was just setting herself up for a beating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was completely beside the point anyway she was a married woman and this girl was half her age and she shouldn’t be thinking about her in any more than student/teacher terms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, Narcissa,” Hermione said quietly, finally looking back at her, soft steel in her eyes and a smile on her lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And oh, Narcissa felt as if she were lost already. She swallowed hard. Exactly how bad would she have to get before she brought this up to Lucius? She knew he was in love with the girl too, but if he even got an iota of an idea that she thought he wasn’t enough for her...well, she would be heartbroken first off, because he most assuredly was enough for her, but secondly and more importantly she didn’t want to see the amount of pieces his heart shattered into. It wasn’t about enough, she was more than happy enough to last a thousand lifetimes, but it...it was hard to put words to. She had always been a rather reserved woman, but words had never failed her like they were now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bit the inside of her lip hard, trying to think of the words she needed to describe the situation even as she smiled back at Hermione. If she didn’t have the words, she certainly couldn’t bring it up with Lucius until she did. She couldn’t shatter his heart, wouldn’t shatter his heart. Until she could figure this out she would just ignore this. She had an iron grip on her corps just as she did herself. One didn’t become a soloist at a major opera house without diamond hard control. So she would manage. And that would be that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, though, she was thankful that Draco burst in a few seconds later, calling out, “Morning mother, Hermione!” as he always did. And if he was there, others wouldn’t be far behind. She could lose herself in the lesson, God knew the dancers always tried her patience and stole all of her focus. For once she was glad for it as the rest of the girls started to pour into the studio.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione yawned and sat down on her bed. She was exhausted. Lucius kept her lessons on performance nights shorter, but shorter for him was a relative term. Especially right now, he seemed to be getting rather excited about something, though he hadn’t deigned to share with her just what it was yet that had him in such a tizzy. The mystery could wait for now. She was going to take off her shoes and she was going to lay down and she was going to sleep the sleep of the dead until the next morning where she would have to do this all over again. She yawned again, wide enough to crack the joint of her jaw, wincing in pain afterwards. God, it was all really going to be worth it, she knew, she was getting better every day, she was almost as excited as Lucius was, seeing where she was progress wise after a little over two and half years, but still. When she finally graduated to singer and only had one role to play she would be thankful for it. She definitely wouldn’t be a Lavender level diva that complained about every little thing that went wrong, that was for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She kicked off her shoes and was just about to lay down when familiar feet came bounding up the stairs. She swore silently if Draco Black thought he was going to have a party up here when she desperately needed sleep, she didn’t care if he was Narcissa’s son, she would have his head on a silver platter. Narcissa would understand, she was sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione,” Draco called, tromping over the floor like he wasn’t the best male dancer in the corps and had absolutely no grace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione flopped over in her bed. She knew that voice. That was the “come down and have a good time with us’ voice. If she wasn’t so tired, she might entertain the notion for at least a drink, but if he thought she was getting out of this bed, he was delusional. “Draco,” she said warningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He collapsed down on the end of her bed and patted her ankle. “Where have you been all night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re well aware of where I’ve been. Where else do I go but lessons and rehearsal and here to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well sometimes you do go get lunch at that cute cafe a couple streets over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The git did have a point about that, but still. That wasn’t what she meant and he knew it. She kicked him gently in the thigh which had him doubling over like he was mortally wounded. They may have been adults now, but he hadn’t changed all that much. He was just as overdramatic now as he was when they had met when she was nine and he was eight. She highly doubted that he would ever lose the urge to take everything over the top. Whatever man ended up with him was going to either have the patience of a saint or be just as ridiculous. She really hoped for the former, she could use all the help she could get with her best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine,” he said as she remained silent, “how was Father tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cocked an eyebrow at him. “How long has it been since you’ve been to see him? What we live like four floors above him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes. “It’s been three days Granger. I’m nineteen. I’m allowed to not see my Father for a few days at a time. Other people our age have moved away and started their own families and only see their fathers once a month, maybe even less.” He stuck out his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at him, fighting to keep her tired eyes open. He was blushing and looking away from her steadfastly. Yeah, that’s what she thought. “Uh huh, methinks the lady doth protest too much. You’re feeling guilty aren’t you? Especially since you see your mother every day at work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now you’re too drunk to navigate the stairs down to see him. Or boat. Both? I’m too tired to remember what you’ve said about how to get down to where he stays.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends on the way you go, really, there are a couple ways that you don’t need the boat, but those half the time are booby trapped because father is paranoid. And anyway, probably don’t go into the tunnels, especially the ones farther down without me at the very least. Father would be a better bet, but…” He trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, I would actually have to meet him first for that to happen.” She sighed. Her crush on him had not gotten any better and now she rather desperately wanted him to come out from behind the wall just so she could finally see him for once at least, but also if that happened she was sure it wouldn’t be a good idea. What if he was handsome? What would she even do then?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if anyone could manage it, it would be you. Hell, I think you spend more time with my parents than I do right now.” He paused and thought about it. “Actually, yes, I’m sure you do and probably have for the past year at least.” He snorted. “Teacher’s pet much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione felt herself blushing and turned her face into the pillow. “What? I like to learn. You already knew that about me. And calling me a teacher’s pet? You said that when we were ten, get a new insult.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I said it at fourteen when that visiting instructor, Miss Delacour, wasn’t it, came to teach and you had the biggest crush on her. It was the exactly moment that I knew you weren’t the prim and proper lady that you pretended to be, it was great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, and since then I’ve heard about every single one of your crushes and conquests. I should’ve kept it in my pants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco snorted. “To be fair, we were fourteen. I don’t think we knew what subtly was then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll give you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached out and poked her in the side. “So, are you a teachers’ pet. Does Hermione Jean Granger have a little crush on my parents.” He kept bursting into laughter trying to get out the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione for her part had fallen silent. If she wasn’t laying on her pillow she would certainly be throwing it at him right now, but her head needed the support more than she needed her revenge. Besides, she was certain it was the only thing cooling down her face from being the color of a beet. As hot as her cheeks felt, she wasn’t even sure the cold side of the pillow would help her now. Hopefully if Draco was too drunk to brave the way down to see his father he was too drunk to see just how much she was blushing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which. Of course he wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>blushing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like blushing </span>
  <em>
    <span>blushing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” His eyes had widened to approximately the size of dinner plates. “Satan’s polka dotted knickers, are you serious? I knew you had a thing for older people, but my </span>
  <em>
    <span>parents</span>
  </em>
  <span>? You haven’t even seen my father? How could you have a crush on him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco Black I swear to God himself if you say one more word I will shove you into a secret passageway and bar the door. If I can find one with a booby trap in it, all the better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, Father would just get me out, you’d be better to shove me off the roof. He doesn’t go up there much. Though I suppose if I started screaming he would appear. He really is good at that, just appearing where needed. Or where you’re trying to look in on the changing rooms to see that charming new dancer who just started definitely masturbating in the shower.” He sighed, longingly. “I never did get to see that. A pity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco,” she growled out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh but you’re right that’s beside the point. I could see the crush on Mother. After all you’ve already had a crush on an instructor. Teachers must just be your type and Mother is beautiful of course. I take after her in that.” He struck a pose and smiled charmingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione kicked him again, this time actually enough to hurt but he didn’t even flinch that time. Oh no, he wouldn’t he had a point to make now. He couldn’t get distracted from that. He and his mother shared a tendency to get fixated on something and not let go until they got it. She would much rather be dealing with Narcissa’s version, because that almost always had to deal with dance and definitely not her love life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Father? Mother is demanding in her lessons, but Father is worse. I can’t imagine you haven’t butted heads with him. You always did with Trelawney when she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> certain she knew what she wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was different, she was nutters and she barely knew how to teach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did get better though, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Out of sheer spite, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged his shoulders. “Better is better and that’s really the mark of an effective teacher. You learned. You might have hated it but you learned. But you didn’t like her. Why do you like him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a genius. Every time he opens his mouth to tell me something, I learn so much, Draco. Yes, he’s not the softest and cuddliest when teaching, and yes sometimes I make faces at the wall because he can’t see them, but I come out of those lessons feeling like I’m truly getting better. I left Trelawney’s classes feeling like I got worse. There’s a true difference there, can’t you see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, I guess. But having learned under him prepared me for dealing with that old bat when we did. Father’s standards on music versus her and dance? Not a comparison, he was a right taskmaster next to her. Granted, he always got teary when I played something perfectly and declared ‘my son the prodigy’ everytime, but still.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed. “That’s the point Draco. He’s a taskmaster, yes, but outside of that he’s...he’s just so kind and so loving. How could I </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a crush on him? The way he treats your mother? Like she’s made of gold and far more precious than anything else in this world? I know you aren’t attracted to women in the slightest, but that’s how we all want to be treated at the base of everything. Of course there are variations and women who don’t fall in that paradigm, we all are different and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco cut her off. “Yes, yes, I get it, Father has a way with the ladies because he’s a big soft teddy bear on the inside.” He sighed. “I can’t deny that, I suppose. He does love me desperately even though I wasn’t the musical prodigy he hoped for. I know he still watches every performance I’m in. That’s why he demands that box five be left empty, you know. Before I was in the corps he only demanded that for the opening of every performance to see how badly Lavender was going to suck that time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>La Carlotta</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He rolled his eyes. “That woman is no more Italian than I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione snorted. “I mean, at least she isn’t as bad at pretending as Ron, I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>Piangi</span>
  </em>
  <span> is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both laughed for a long moment before settling into silence. Her heart was swelling in her chest over the fact that Lucius cared enough to watch Draco in every single one of his performances. She clenched her fist and tried to fight down the wave of emotion that felt suspiciously like love. Oh, two years of this and her heart felt so bruised and battered and she wanted more desperately than anything to move on, but no one in her life right now could match the even half the allure of Lucius or Narcissa on their own, let alone together. How was she supposed to move on when she couldn’t take her mind off them, when there was no one else to think of, and she spent almost all of her day with one of the other of them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I know Father wants to replace Lavender with you, but do you think he has some secret tenor he’s teaching somewhere? And is he cute?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if he does, he hasn’t told me.” She grimaced at the thought of having to sing next to Ronald Weasley. God with a name like that it was no wonder he tried to go by Ubaldo Piangi. Name was everything in opera. Hermione Granger wasn’t going to win her any real points, but it was her name and she wasn’t changing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unless we change it to Black</span>
  </em>
  <span>...a traitorous voice in her head whispered. She shook herself slightly. There was no way she was going to change her name to Black. It wasn’t like she could marry Lucius. He was already married to Narcissa. She just needed to calm down. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She should be able to handle this, but dear god, was she not actually able to handle it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a long moment. “You know, Hermione, if there’s anyone out there on the planet right now besides my mother and I, that he would actually think about showing himself to, it would be you. Just by virtue of being that person, it puts you rather highly in my mother’s esteem as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She half sat up so she could really look at Draco. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I’ve had far too much wine tonight, I may be saying things that just aren’t true or right or anything, but I mean it’s not like any of us at this opera house are </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, everyone out there in the seats thinks we’re all these prim and proper artist types. If they actually saw what went on backstage I think they’d all faint, but that’s beside the point. Anywhere else? I wouldn’t be this open anywhere else with who I love. I couldn’t be. Probably would be thrown in jail for it, who knows. But…” He ran his hand through his hair. “My father exists behind the walls of this place. It’s not like anyone would know. It would just seem like you were with my mother. It’s not like anyone has actually seen her husband. The rumors fly about her and Father all the time saying he’s not actually real and such. I suppose the two of you together would just seem like a confirmation of that and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco, you’re talking in riddles. I don’t understand.” She wanted to shake whatever he had to say out of him and then go to sleep. She was far too tired to figure out what Draco was saying between the lines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just. If there was anyone out there in the world that both of my parents would be romantically interested in, it would be you. Not that I’m saying it will happen. I have no bloody clue. Just that. It theoretically could. If you wanted to. And if they wanted to. You could maybe date them both? And it wouldn’t cause too much of a scandal? I think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just started at Draco. He had to be kidding her. There was no way they would even consider it. For christ’s sake she was the same age as their son, if only a few months different, and what did that really matter in the scheme of things? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t be serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He launched himself off the bed. “I said I was drunk. I barely know what I’m saying. Just I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t mind it either? I just want you all to be happy and if you have a raging crush on the both of them, and they’re interested in you, go for it? But I swear, don’t ask me to even begin to ask them if they’re interested in you. I’m your best friend, but they’re still my parents and I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>need to know. I don’t. Ever. If it happens and you speak one words to me about what you all get up to behind closed door I’ll be the one throwing </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> off the roof.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco, it’s not going to be an issue. There’s no way they would be interested in me like that. If it was just one of them, maybe, but two? I don’t even think the opera house is weird enough for that, even if you would be the only person who knew it was two people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco shrugged one shoulder and took a step backwards towards the stairs. “I...I think if you knew more about Father you wouldn’t be worried about normal.” He took another step backwards. “And honestly I did not come up here to have this conversation, in fact I’m hoping I’m drunk enough to forget that I just gave you my permission to fuck my parents. I really came up here to ask you to come down to the party, but you know what, this definitely calls for a free pass for you from my whining about how you never come out and have fun like the rest of the people our age. You’re having your own fun.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that Hermione was off of her pillow she picked it up and chucked it at him, hitting him right in the face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco Cygnus Black, I swear to god, you don’t just get to waltz in here, drag the fact that I have a crush on your parents out into the open, give me permission to date them, and then walk right back out again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped and just looked at her, face clearly asking if she was serious. “One, yes I certainly do because I know you won’t follow me because you look exhausted and we all know how much you love sleep. And two, do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to talk about this more? Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione felt her jaw snap shut at that. No, not really, not with him, not with anyone. She wanted to go back to fifteen minutes ago when she was still shoving down her feelings and not acknowledging them for any more time than she had to to shove them back in their box again. Having those feelings out in the air like this was not going to help her move on like she knew she should. She ran her hand over her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I suppose not. But damn it Draco, you know I’m not going to sleep after this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally reached the stairs and looked at her. “Wine, always does help. And you know where to find it. Literally just look around, it’s an opera house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted and nodded and he finally disappeared down the stairs. Oh, she would need a lot of wine to sleep tonight. Her brain was going to run around in circles thinking about what Draco said, her own feelings, impossibly futures she wasn’t ever going to have, everything and anything relating to Narcissa and Lucius Black. God damn Draco Black straight to hell. Before this she was handling everything just fine. Well. She was handling it well enough. She was still functioning. She didn’t need wine to sleep at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffed and pushed herself out of bed and padded downstairs. Two glasses of wine and she would be sleepy but wouldn’t be hungover in the morning. And tomorrow night she would just have to deal with her feelings and go to sleep like normal. Hopefully she would just be tired enough to fall into bed like she had been planning to tonight before Draco tilted her entire world on a new axis. She crossed her arms over her chest as she descended the stairs. She was going to find that boy a boyfriend and then she was going to rearrange his whole world on a whim and see how he liked it. Knowing Draco, he actually would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wanker.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hide No Longer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Have I made fun of my friend TheWorldsaBeastofBurden for her long chapters. AND YET HERE'S 24.5k for ya'll. WHOOPS. Pot, half a kettle, definitely black. So ya'll enjoy my severe outpouring of gay lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hermione waited in the wings for the chorus to finish their number, hopping from foot to foot. This slave outfit was not exactly the warmest thing in the world considering it was barely there at all. She would feel better when she actually got to dance and maybe had the chance to warm up. Lavender started singing again and Hermione winced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wish we could wear ear plugs like that cleaning ladies,” Draco muttered into her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked out onto the seats and saw the women stuffing cotton into their ears. Yes, she definitely wished she could do that too. With all of Lucius’s lessons now she could hear Lavender’s singing for just how bad it truly was, and it hadn’t been all that great to begin with. She truly got why Lucius wanted her out of the opera. Anyone who really knew anything about opera knew she wasn’t one of the greats, not in the world, not even in Paris itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d take your father letting some more frogs out,” she whispered low enough that Draco was the only one who could hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even with the smell afterwards?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She walked out for three days after that. Worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rehearsal came to a halt as the owner and a man and a woman Hermione had never seen walked on stage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monsieur Slughorn! I am rehearsing!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slughorn waved him off. “Monsieur Flitwick, Madame Black. Ladies and gentlemen, please. If I could have your attention?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The company did not shut up, as was their habit for at least a minute after any and all interruptions to rehearsal. Perhaps if Monsieur Flitwick was a more commanding presence he wouldn’t have such a time keeping the attention of the Opera, but Hermione doubted it. They were just a rowdy group until--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Madame Black if you would please?” Monsieur Slughorn asked the ballet mistress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa banged her cane on the ground twice, not even that loudly, and the entire company shut up in an instant. Neither Flitwick nor Slughorn had the kind of soft menace that it really took to keep a group of artistic degenerates in line, but Narcissa had it in spades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Monsieur Slughorn said. “As you know for some weeks there have been rumors of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true, and it is my pleasure to introduce you to the two new owners of the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Albus Dumbledore and Madame Minerva McGonagall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The company broke into a light round of applause. Hermione looked them both up and down. The man, Albus Dumbledore was dressed rather strangely, almost flamboyantly. He quite honestly looked more like an aged performer than someone who owned an Opera. She had seen a couple owners come and go over her time at the opera house, but most of them looked like very buttoned up aristocratic types. They owned the opera house for status and nothing more. This man in his flamboyance could either be a good thing for the opera house and let things branch out into more artistic endeavors, which she knew Lucius would just love to see, and one of his scores would mysteriously end up being the one they selected for a new opera. Or he could be even worse, somehow more tightened up and restrictive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it all depended on the woman beside him. She looked prim and proper, but there was a no nonsense edge to her, almost like Narcissa. Hermione supposed that made sense if she actually had the money to go in on the opera house, especially since she could see her left hand and there was no wedding band. That took one hell of a woman, Hermione wondered just how she managed it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’ve read of their recent fortune in the junk business,” Monsieur Slughorn said, face twisting just slightly in what Hermione guessed was disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scrap metal actually,” Monsieur Dumbledor said, smiling, a decided twinkle in his eye, looking nothing more like a grandfather as he patted Slughorn on the arm as if people made that mistake all the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione heard Pansy whispering to Astoria, “They must be rich.” She rolled her eyes. Of course they were rich. They would have to be to buy the opera. It didn’t exactly take a genius to figure it out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame McGonagall raised her voice just a shade over the last of the dying applause. “And we are deeply honored to introduce our new patron, the Vicomte de Changy!.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s stomach erupted into butterflies. Harry? No it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be that Harry. She hadn’t seen him since she was a little girl, before her father got sick. They had spent the summers together by the sea while her father had been between musical seasons. Those days for her brought memories of peace. She had had such fun with Harry. As a little girl she’d even imagined they would get married, but then her father had died and she’d been taken away from that life and now all she had were the memories. What were the odds that he would slip back into her life? No, it couldn’t be him, nevermind that she knew no other Vicomte de Changy. Though, last she knew Severus, his older brother was supposed to inherit the title. She wondered why it was Harry instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked around for him, trying to find him in the crowd, her brain still chanting that it couldn’t be him, it couldn’t be. Until she saw him, and there was no mistaking that dark, wild hair that his mother had never been able to tame. He was grown now and looked so different, but the hair confirmed it was him, and she could see the boy he once was in his now mature face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My god, I’ve never seen a finer man on Earth,” Draco breathed, looking at Harry starstruck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a lovely man, or at least he was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco turned and looked at her. “You know him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Harry. Before my father died at the house by the sea...I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts. He called me Little Lotte.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco sighed. “Oh it figures he doesn’t swing this way. Hermione, he’s so handsome.” He slumped against the railing behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry opened his mouth to speak and Hermione hung on every word. “My parents and I are honored to support all the arts, especially the world-renowned Opera Populaire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lavender strode forward, that sickly sweet smile she thought was so charming on her face. Hermione scrunched her nose up. The last person Harry should be meeting if he actually wanted to know the true skill set of the opera was Lavender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gentlemen, Vicomte,” Slughorn said, “Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lavender did a ridiculous little bow in front of Harry. Draco snorted so loudly a few people turned and looked at him but he just shrugged. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Carlotta</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Most of the people looking just nodded and looked back at the spectacle before them. Lavender’s personal seamstress and maid, Padma and Parvarti Patil twins were clapping and shouting for her introduction. Oh, how ridiculous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Ron started coughing in a ridiculously high voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How in the world does he think that sounds good?” Draco muttered to Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed quietly and nodded. It did sound absolutely hysterical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slughorn turned to Ron. “And Signor Ubaldo Piangi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione saw the downturn of Harry’s mouth as if he didn’t believe that these were actually the names of the people before him, and he’d be right. Neither Lavender nor Ron looked like they were Italian in the slightest. Though it surprised her she could still read him after all these years. Maybe she was wrong?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry dropped the frown and turned it into a sincere smile. “An honor, signor. I believe I’m keeping you from your rehearsal. I will be here this evening to share your great triumph. My apologies, monsieur.” He nodded towards Flitwick and turned to walk towards backstage once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Monsieur le Vicomte,” Flitwick called. “Once more if you please, signor.” He looked at Ron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lavender walked off to stage left, already crowing, “He love me. He love me, love me, love me, love me”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, does she listen to a word that comes out of her mouth?” Draco snarked a little louder this time. The rest of the corps tittered with giggles. Lavender didn’t treat anyone with kindness, but she especially sniped at the corps. God only knew why really. It wasn’t like they stole her show or anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione didn’t laugh though. Harry was coming right towards them. She held her breath. What was she going to do if he recognized her? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was she going to do if he didn’t?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t as if she really had feelings for him anymore. No, her crush on Narcissa and Lucius was far too strong for that. But he still represented something important to her. Him not recognizing her would still hurt, surely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he walked right past her without stopping, and yes, it did hurt. She sighed quietly and shook her head. “He wouldn’t recognize me,” she said, more to herself than Draco. Afterall, she had barely recognized him. It had been a long, long time since they had last scene each other and she was no longer seven years old. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t see you,” Draco said, putting his hand on her arm for comfort. “Trust me, I was watching him rather closely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bumped Draco’s hip with her own. “Whatever happened to Peter? Or are you just looking to play the field,” she teased him half-heartedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Peter is old news, Hermione, keep up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa banged her cane on the ground and just like that rehearsal was back in session. “If you please, monsieur,” she called, gesturing Dumbledor and Mcgonagall off to the side of the stage and then the first group of girls was running forward. Hermione got with her line of girls quickly and all thoughts of Harry were lost for the time being in the movement of dancing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa sighed inaudibly as she gestured for the new owners to clear the stage. It always took new people so long to figure out how to act around a stage in rehearsal. They were always, always in the way. But they were the ones who signed her paycheck, and Lucius’s come to think of it, but she was a visible in the earning of hers. She couldn’t just send a snarky note about how they were doing running the place, no she was going to have to play the role of the charming Ballet Mistress for what felt like the hundredth time in her career. So she took a deep breath and dived into it head first. It would get it over with more quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We take great pride in the excellence of our ballet,” she told them, watching the corps perform. They didn’t need to know that this was the weakest group she’d had in years. They still were better than most other places in Paris currently, save the actual Paris Ballet most probably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see why,” McGonagall said, following her gaze to the girls and then the men leaping over the chains. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned. Dean needed to work on his landing, but that could wait for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Especially that blonde angel,” McGonagall continued, gesturing at Draco.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My son, Draco Black.” She felt her protective mother instincts rise up. This woman standing beside her was old enough to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> mother, let alone Draco’s. Not that he would truly need protection. He could handle himself, and it wasn’t like Lucius would ever let anything happen to him even if he couldn’t, but still. She was his mother. Her grip tightened on her cane, but she said nothing more. Oftentimes just a little discouragement was enough. The opera house was full of more willing, less attached bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that exceptional beauty,” Dumbledore gestured at Hermione. “No relation, I trust?” He pointed to Hermione, and even with the almost joking look in his eyes as his gaze drifted from Hermione to Viktor and stayed on him, Narcissa’s need to protect Hermione was stronger even than it was for Draco. She wanted to reach and rip the man’s throat out. And my, my, that was a reaction far stronger than it should be for a girl she really should only have a passing fancy for. But it had been a year since she had realized she cared more for the girl than she should, and the fancy certainly hadn’t passed. If anything, she was sure she almost had the words to explain to Lucius just what she felt for the girl, just the words necessary to explain that it was no failing on his part that she had fallen for this woman. It had just hit her like an avalanche and she’d been carried away and with every passing minute she went farther than she had before. Her dawning love with Lucius has been slow, a lazy river winding its way to the beautiful violence of a waterfall, but she thought that all her ability to fall slowly had been used up with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione Granger, promising talent, Monsieur Dumbledore, very promising.” She tried not to bite out her words, and she was generally sure she was successful. Wearing a rather icy demeanor in public for all these years had helped modulate her tone even under the most dire of circumstances.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Granger, did you say?” Dumbledore asked. “No relation to the famous English violinist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His only child, orphaned at seven when she came to live and train in the ballet dormitories.” Her hand was gripping her cane far harder than it should. She would have an imprint of the silver head of it on the skin of her palm for most of the rest of the day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An orphan you say?” And he was far too intrigued by that, even as his eyes still remained on Viktor as he danced now in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I care for her deeply as well,” she said, turning to look at the man, expression hard and cold. She was done playing the gracious host now. “If you would kindly stand to one side.” She gestured them off the stage and returned to watching her dancers carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She saw the commotion Lavender was making about someone stepping on her dress and Narcissa had a sinking feeling. She had been whining all morning and now she had a new audience to play for. There was no way this wasn’t going to lead to some sort of diva meltdown. She watched as the song finished and Lavender looked more and more frustrated with everyone, Ron included as he couldn’t get his considerable bulk up onto the prop elephant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All day! All they want is the dancing!” Lavender shouted as the last notes faded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, here it came, right on time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well the Vicomte is very excited about tonight’s gala,” Slughorn said, reappearing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa ignored the managers, giving notes to a few of the girls, ushering them to reset to practice the scene again. It very much had not gone well and they were opening tonight for heaven’s sake. God above did they truly like to leave things down to the wire. Maybe under these new managers that might be shaped up more? It would do wonders for her nerves, truly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then she caught Lavender stalking across the stage towards the managers and oh, it was going to be a bigger fit than expected. Wonderful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allora, allora, allora,” she said it badly accented Italian. Why in the world did the girl even try? “I hope he is as excited by dancing girls as your new managers!” She pointed at them accusingly. Really, she hadn’t been paying that much attention had she, they had mostly been looking at the dancing men, though that brought little comfort to Narcissa. She could see where Lavender was going with this. She wondered just how long she was going to leave for this time. Her as the lead soprano was truly exhausting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I will not be singing!” She turned, throwing her arm up. “Andiamo, tutti. No it’s finito. Finished. Get my doggy, bring my doggy!” She yelled storming across the stage. Bye-bye!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa rolled her eyes, breaking her composure. Lucius had been talking about Hermione being ready to take the stage soon, had been planning to oust Lavender shortly after the new managers arrived and he was sure of his control over them to make sure they were running his opera house correctly. But if Lucius were to perhaps decide that today was the time to get rid of the woman, she would be more than thankful. She knew he was watching somewhere, he usually did watch a full dress rehearsal to make sure it was coming together nicely. If he saw Lavender in another one of her fits, he might just get rid of her once and for all. He was frustrated with the diva as all of the rest of the company was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do we do?” McGonagall asked, looking after Lavender with a moue of distaste. Narcissa had a feeling that under other circumstances she might actually be friends with this woman, but not as manager of the opera.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Grovel. Grovel, grovel.” Slughorn gestured towards Lavender. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you later, because I’m going now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa walked back to where Hermione and Draco were watching the meltdown. She didn’t want to be any closer to this than she had to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Father have any more frogs?” Draco asked in a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione snorted and Narcissa found the noise to be far too cute for something so rather uncouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately no, but were you to slip out of the opera and buy a fish to put in her dressing room, I’m sure he would address a note for you to leave with it,” she said quietly, stepping closer to her son and Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just one fish?” Hermione asked. “Draco has at least two hands. More if I slipped out with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make a very good point. The more the better, though not so many that the whole opera house smells for the rest of the month. At least I wouldn’t have to smell it at night, but the both of you would be rather stuck with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, good point, I think three or four wouldn’t make that big of a stink,” Draco said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s just the amount of hands we have between us.” Hermione was smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is finished!” Lavender shouted just as Dumbledore and McGonagall were hurrying up behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“World renowned beauty!” Dumbledore shouted over her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Principessa! Bella diva!” McGonagall continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lavender turned to look at them, “Si, si, si!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is their groveling? I’ve heard better from father at three in the morning when he’s half asleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa hummed her agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddess of song!” Dumbledore continued to shout at what was probably the top of his old lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“E vero!” Lavender shouted right back</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monsieur Flitwick isn’t there a rather marvelous aria for Elissa in act three of Hannibal?” McGonagall asked, turning to the short man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sputtered but didn’t managed to get a word out before people were talking over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps the signora--?” Dumbledore was cut off by Lavender</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, yes, mano! Because I have not my costume for act three because someone not finish it! And I hate my hat!” She shouted, turning to her seamstress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is anyone else getting a headache from all the shouting?” Draco asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several of the corps around them nodded. Narcissa shook her head. They could be using this time so much more productively. She massaged her temples. When would this be over exactly?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But I wonder, signora, as a personal favor, if you would oblige us with a private rendition,” Dumbledore beseeched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now Lavender was crying. Narcissa glanced up to the rafters, hoping that Lucius was up there and could see her look. She was far, far too done with this woman and her whining to wait much longer for her to be tossed to the curb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless of course Monsieur Flitwick objects.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, aspetta, aspetta.” And just like that Lavender stopped crying and smiled. “Well, if my managers command.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Dumbledore and McGonagall looked relieved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monsieur Flitwick.” Lavender looked at the man</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If my diva commands,” he said, high pitched voice more sarcastic than Narcissa had heard in a long while. She didn’t blame the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I do!” And that sarcasm had went right over her head. It figured. She was as dense as her boyfriend. “Everybody very quiet!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m thinking it might need to be five fish,” Draco muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll help if you need more hands,” Dean said, stepping behind Narcissa to join the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe it would look rather suspicious if I let three of my dancers go. But if someone were to pay a vendor to deliver the fish, well that would only take a few minutes to unload, yes? Like on a water break?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Genius, Mother.” Draco smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Monsieur Slughorn, why exactly are you retiring?” McGonagall asked, her eyes resting on Lavender, a sharp intelligence in them putting together the pieces already. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My health,” Slughorn said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now more shushing from Lavender as she gestured for that ridiculous throat spray. Narcissa had asked Lucius what the entire point of that spray could have been, but he had just laughed and told her Lavender used it for no other reason than being a diva. Even early on in her first season at the opera, Narcissa hadn’t questioned his assessment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Signora,” Flitwick said, a little breathless after hurrying to his position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maestro.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The piano started to play and Lavender arranged herself much like a peacock would to display themselves before she actually managed to start singing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyone have any cotton?” came a whisper from farther backstage. Both Draco and Hermione laughed quietly and Narcissa had the impression that she was missing a joke from earlier. She shrugged it off, cotton when listening to Lavender wasn’t the worst idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she heard ropes coming loose and she looked up to the flys and she saw a shadow retreating. So Lucius had had enough as well it seemed. She took a step back, pulling Hermione and Draco with her. She didn’t know where whatever Lucius had let loose would fall, but the further backstage they were, the less likely it would be anywhere near them. Draco looked back over his shoulder, questioning, but she just silenced him with a look as one of the scenery backdrops loosed itself and fell towards Lavender. She nodded her approval at the choice, not heavy enough to do any real damage to anyone it fell on, but enough to scare the people around them. Lavender crashed to the floor under the backdrop and immediately called for the people around her to get it off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose the Phantom of the Opera paid us a visit,” Draco said, going for scared, but mostly just sounded relieved that someone had shut up Lavender.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa squeezed his arm and moved even further backstage even as everyone in the area moved forward to try and see what in the world was going on. Lucius would drop a note somewhere for someone to find, she just had to find it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greyback! For God’s sake man, what’s going on up there!” Slughorn called over Narcissa’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard the creak of the flys as Fenrir Greyback appeared above the cast. She ignored the fuss, scanning the floor. He would have dropped it some place obvious enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, monsieur, don’t look at me. As God’s my judge I wasn’t at my post.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa snorted at that. The man never really was at his post. He was a drunkard and a letch. She wouldn’t mind if Lucius scared him off as well as Lavender. Her dancers would certainly be safer for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, monsieur, there’s no one there. Or if there is, well, then, it must be a ghost.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was only a ghost if he didn’t trust you. Not that anyone in this opera house would understand him. She had seen what people were like around him first hand. In fact that was her main fear with Hermione if she ever met Lucius face to face. It was one thing to get to know a man out of sight out of mind, but it was different in its entirety to see the man and the mask and wonder why he hid his face. That curiosity would never lead anywhere good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe it could this time. It had gone well enough for her. She loved the man, mask or no. Perhaps...perhaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A note floated down to her and she smiled, looking up to see him above her, dressed in all black and silent as the night. She smiled at him and waved before picking up the note to deliver to the new managers. She caught the end of Lavender’s shouting at the new managers as she finally emerged from the depths of backstage. Well, a surprise that was not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you two, you are as bad as him. ‘These things do happen’?  Ma-uhh! Until you stop these things from happening, this thing doesn’t happen! Ubaldo, andiamo! Bring my doggy and my boxy!” And she stormed off, much to Narcissa’s relief as she continued to walk towards the managers, the note clutched in her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amateurs,” Ron said, before walking away himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gentlemen, good luck. If you need me I shall be in Australia,” Slughorn said, also taking his leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The new managers looked terrified, looking to Flitwick. “Signora Giudicelli, she will be coming back right?” McGonagall asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was introduction enough for her note. “You think so, Madame? I have a message, ma’am, for the Opera Ghost.” She looked down at the note, but really she was watching the two people in front of her. How they reacted would determine just how easily the transition from Slughorn to them would be. They would give in. Every manager before them had. Some had just taken much longer than the others and she would rather not have to live through another one of Lucius’s overly scheming periods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, you’re all obsessed.” Dumbledore rolled his eyes at her words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Well, that wasn’t the best of signs. Still, she forged on. “He welcomes you to his opera house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>His</span>
  </em>
  <span> opera house?” Dumbledore’s voice held more than passing incredulity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And commands that you continue to leave box five empty for his use,” she continued like she hadn’t heard him, pointing up to box five with her cane. “And reminds you that his salary is due.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“His salary?” McGonagall said, unbelieving. She took the note from her hands and looked it over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa tilted her head to the side as if it was no big deal. “Well, Monsieur Slughor use to give him twenty thousand francs a month.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twenty thousand francs?!” Dumbledore grabbed the note out of McGonagall's hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As well as this wasn’t going, Narcissa had to push their buttons. They had gotten under her skin earlier with their blatant appraisal of both her son and Hermione. “Perhaps you can afford more with the vicomte as your patron?” It would already be a fight with them to accept Lucius’s rule, why not get a raise in the process? She started to walk away from them before she had to turn back to listen to Dumbledore once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Madame, I had hoped to make that announcement public tonight when the vicomte was to join us for the gala, but obviously we shall now have to cancel, as it appears we have lost our star!” Dumbledore’s words got louder as he ripped up the note from Lucius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But surely there must be an understudy,” McGonagall said, trying to be a voice of reason in the panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa felt herself smiling. Good, good, this was shaping up well. There was no understudy to </span>
  <em>
    <span>La Carlotta</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that anyone besides herself and Draco knew of, anyway. She would just have to suggest Hermione and they might potentially be free of Lavender Brown forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A full house, Minvera, we’ll have to refund a full house!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione Granger could sing it, sir.” Narcissa kept herself from smiling by the barest of margins. She wouldn’t want to give away the plot just yet now would she?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, a chorus girl?” All of Dumbledore’s grandfatherly charm that was left fled immediately. “Don’t be silly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She have been taking lessons from a great teacher.” A better one than existed in all of Paris at the very least, perhaps all of France, though no one knew it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who?” McGonagall asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione only paused for a moment before answering, “I don’t know his name, madame.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let her sing for you, monsieur,” Narcissa said, circling so she could put her hand on Hermione’s shoulder. She felt the warmth of the girl’s skin and the excitement inside her sparked to a higher level. She would finally get to prove herself to the opera, Lucius would be so pleased. She would be too. She only wanted Hermione to have good things, and she knew the girl could do this and more. “She has been well taught.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, come on, don’t be shy,” McGonagall gestured Hermione forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl glanced back at Narcissa for just a moment. She smiled at the girl, her face soft and encouraging. Performing for the first time in front of an audience was nerve wracking, but if the skills were there, and they were, it would bear out. Repetition and muscle memory won out over fear every time. Hermione smiled back at her before confidently walking to center stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From the beginning of the aria, if you please, mademoiselle,” Flitwick said as the piano started to play at his command.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Albus, this is doing nothing for my nerves,” Minerva muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa quashed the urge to accidentally lean into her foot with her cane. She would have to do that later when it wasn’t quite so obvious that it wasn’t truly an accident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, she’s very pretty,” Dumbledore replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now her target for a cane in the foot had decidedly switched back to Dumbledore. She could arrange her revenge soon enough. She looked forward to it greatly. For now though, there were more important things to think about, like watching Hermione’s performance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She started quieter than she was sure Lucius would’ve liked, but the words were clear and on pitch and she sounded lovely. Narcissa smiled wider at the sound of good music finally, finally gracing the stage. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Think of me, </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Remember me once in a while,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please Promise me you’ll try.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked over at Narcissa, to confirm that she was doing well. Narcissa nodded and gestured towards the front of the stage. It was all hers she just had to reach out and take it. She saw the woman’s eyes light up and the next words were louder, swelling to fill the entire opera house and Lucius wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“When you find that once again you long </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>to take your heart back and be free</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If you ever find a moment </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spare a thought for me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She made it through the entire aria, getting better and better as she went. Narcissa felt her heart swelling in her chest as the music floated around her. She looked up to the very top of the opera house dome and saw Lucius there in the shadows, listening, face relaxed, lost in the music. She was doing very, very well then if Lucius had nothing to scowl over. When the song faded out she saw him open his eyes and their stares met. She had to talk to him about this woman before them. She just had to. After rehearsal was over but before tonight’s performance. She was sure of it. Hearing her sing like this, she had all the words she would need now. She needed Hermione. She knew Lucius did as well. They would need her together and hopefully, she would need them too. If she didn’t, her heart would break. If she rejected them just because of Lucius. She wasn’t sure what she would do. But god, they had to try, didn’t they?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Minvera said, standing up straighter at the end of the song, “I think that will more than do for tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the company burst into applause.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius paced their chambers feverishly. Hermione on stage singing in front of everyone and excelling had brought out things within him that he had long thought buried, or at least morphed into other feelings care of Narcissa. But now he certainly couldn’t deny it. After three years of lessons and sharing thoughts and feelings and music with Hermione Granger, he was certainly falling in love with the woman. And that scared him more than words could truly say. The woman had never seen him, only knew him from behind a wall, and if she ever saw him and rejected him? He didn’t want to know how badly he would break. Narcissa would help him pick up the pieces as she had before, but how long would it take to repair him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And oh god, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Narcissa</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His beautiful, loving, loyal wife and he had fallen in love with another woman? What sort of monster was he? It wasn’t as if he didn’t still love her with every ounce of his being, but it felt like a betrayal still. He loved them both and he certainly loved them differently and he had enough love in him to fill the opera house a thousand times over, but Narcissa had been there for him since the very beginning and had helped him through everything. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want her to think that somehow that wasn’t enough for him. It was, it was more than enough, god was it ever, but Hermione...Narcissa got art, she did, but her art was dance and her passion lay there. Hermione understood music, understood him in a way that Narcissa had lovingly tried to understand and learn, and he would be forever grateful for that, but she had gone as far as somehow could without the burning passion that Lucius felt within himself. Hermione could go farther, Hermione would understand, did understand to some extent now, and most assuredly would complete the whole distance to him if only she kept learning. It was such an intoxicating idea to be understood both from Narcissa who held the knowledge of his beginnings and had taught him so much, and from Hermione who was his passion made flesh. He knew he would have to choose, of course he would, but how much would it tear him apart?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would pick Narcissa. Of course he would. She was his wife. But would he resent her in time for having to make the choice? He didn’t want that to happen either. Oh, what sort of Faustian bargain had he gotten himself into? What he wouldn’t give to travel back in time and at least miss the rehearsal, to save himself at least a few hours of this suffering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what would be the point? The second he saw her perform tonight he would have felt the same way. And there would be no way that he would’ve missed the performance for the world. Unless Narcissa or Draco had some sort of dire emergency, at least. And he knew Hermione wouldn’t mind him missing it, were that the case. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a few long golden strands coming away with the force of the motion. What was he to do then?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made another lap of their quarters. Narcissa would be down soon, she usually came to eat dinner with him before the performance of the night. Unless she stayed upstairs to help Hermione get ready for her first performance as a lead soprano, this night would be no different. It was a toss up whether she would stay upstairs or not. They had talked about Hermione and it was obvious that his wife cared for the woman, but she talked of her as she talked of Draco, perhaps as a daughter they were never able to have. He felt a stab of pain through his heart at that thought. Narcissa could tell him all she wanted that it wasn’t his fault that they were not able to have anymore children after Draco, what with how hard his birth had been. He had almost lost the both of them in one day, but he knew that it was his cursed essence that had done it, he was sure. What would she think of him falling in love with a woman who wasn’t much older than their own son?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, peeling off his mask and flinging it away. He didn’t feel he deserved it right at this instant. He couldn't hide away from the monster he was. Lucius walked over to a mirror and looked at himself, looked at the hideously scarred cheek that barely looked like it was flesh at all, twisted and red and inflamed. It looked like the devil himself had touched him in the womb. Then there was an eye that lacked eyelashes and eyebrows that lent even more to the appearance that half of his face was that of a staring demon, a half formed nose beside it, collapsed in on itself like someone had broken it over and over again on one side and never let it heal. Perhaps the worst was his forehead, the skin there looked like bared bone. Maybe it was thin enough that he truly could see the bone, he had never been sure, had never wanted to actually check for fear that he would only disfigure himself more. This was the man and monster he was. Normal on the right side of his face, perhaps even handsome, and devil’s spawn on the left. How could anyone new love him? He was fooling himself? Why tie himself up in knots like this for something he could never have?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even if he couldn’t have it, he still had to tell Narcissa about his feelings for the girl. It wouldn’t be fair to keep this knowledge from her. He looked away from his reflection, unable to keep from at least tossing some of his hair over the left half of his face in lieu of a mask. But how was he supposed to tell her without hurting her? Just when he thought the gods no longer damned him, here he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard the sounds of heels through one of Narcissa’s more favored passageways. So she hadn’t decided to stay upstairs after all. She had probably left Draco with Hermione to help her get ready and fend off the worst of the hangers on from the rest of the opera house. He was her best friend after all and would do almost as good of a job as his mother. He walked to the end of the passage just as Narcissa turned the corner. She smiled at him, small but so warm and for the first time in years, he felt like crying at the sight of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stopped in front of him and swept his hair back, standing up on her toes to kiss him. He melted into it. How could he not? This was the woman who loved him with or without his mask on, who voluntarily put anything that covered his face aside and just loved him as he was. And as always, he got lost in her until she finally pulled back with a flush adorning her pale cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was a triumph, yes?” She asked him, taking a step back and straightening her dress, shuffling off towards their kitchens to prepare something quick. She needn’t worry. In his restless energy he had actually put on dinner to simmer. It should be done by now actually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius followed her to the kitchen and smiled at her delighted noise at finding dinner already simmering away and smelling delicious if he said so himself. Learning to cook had been more of a necessity than anything, going up and stealing food from the kitchens had gotten old rather quickly, there was almost always someone there and he had almost gotten caught several times. So he had learned how to cook a few years after coming. Narcissa when they married had insisted for a time to do all the cooking as her duty as a wife, but she had let go of that ideal rather quickly once Draco had been born and he was more than happy to perform any labor to keep his little family happy, clean, and fed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My favorite stew?” She asked, looking up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a special enough night.” He paused, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Also it was the only thing I could think of to make with what we had left around. I forgot to send for our regular grocery order. I was...a bit distracted.” And he wondered if this was the moment he should segue into his feelings for Hermione. It was an easy enough place to do it, but then Narcissa was speaking before he could open his mouth to do so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wondered about that.” She laughed and looked around the cupboards. “We aren’t as bad off as that one time we spent a week of the off season in bed. I think we had, what, three potatoes left by the end?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorted. “I think it was more like two and a half, that third one was barely a potato at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa sighed, looking at him rather dreamily, or at least as dreamily as Narcissa Black ever truly looked. “Now that was a wonderful week. I do so wonder if Draco wasn’t conceived that week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He would be horrified to know it if he was.” They both shared a wicked look. Their dear son covered his ears whenever they so much as mentioned sex. If he so much as heard the words, you were concieved during a week long marathon of sex, Lucius was sure he might just curl up and die from the embarassment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not wrong.” Narcissa got two bowls out and ladled some of the stew into each of them, handing Lucius one. “Though I suspect he’d be even more horrified if we repeated the performance now that he’s older.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius set his bowl of stew aside on their small kitchen table and wrapped his arms around Narcissa. Holding her was always perfect. It made the words he had to say dig into his throat and make it bleed. So he didn’t say them once more. “Are you saying you’d like to repeat the performance this summer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, I wouldn’t mind it. You’ve learned a great, great deal since we were young. I’m sure it would be even more delicious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shuddered against her. “I’m not opposed to the idea in the slightest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think you would be.” She chuckled and he could feel the vibrations against his chest. “But after three years of daily lessons, I think Hermione might faint if you told her she got a week off.” And then Narcissa fell still in his arms, almost like a statue and he wondered if something was wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stepped from his grasp and put her own bowl on the table before turning to look at him. “Lucius, I...I need to talk to you about something, about Hermione.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the pit in his stomach grew. Did she already know that he was in love with Hermione? If anyone could figure it out before he did, it would be Narcissa. Sometimes he thought that she knew him more than he knew his own self. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about her?” He asked, voice quiet and stretched tight like a bow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I believe her role in our lives has shifted a great deal since you began lessons with her and since she joined the main corps. I think, well, it might be time to talk about where she fits in now. That perhaps maybe we’ll both agree about where she belongs with us, and that we’ll be happy. So long as Hermione agress of course. I mean, we can’t go anywhere without that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilted his head, looking at his wife. Did she want to adopt Hermione? Truly treat her as the daughter they never had? Is that what she was asking for? He didn’t really understand. Sometimes he felt like his wife could talk riddles around him and he would never get out of the maze of words. He didn’t mind most times. She had helped him many a time craft his schemes as the Phantom, helped him draft notes to particularly stubborn denizens for the company, but sometimes he just wished she would use plain language. Maybe she veiled her words so she didn’t hurt him, that she based her responses on what he assumed she meant by her words and went from there, and perhaps he should appreciate that. He wasn’t so fragile, but he wasn’t the strongest either. This saving of his feelings just meant that she loved him too much. He wouldn’t turn away from such all encompassing love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But neither could he adopt Hermione as a daughter. Not with how he felt about her. “I also have to talk to you about Hermione,” he said quietly. “But I believe it might be for a different reason than yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked at him. “Really? I was under the impression from all your passionate diatribes that we shared the same feelings for the woman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean I know we both care for her deeply, but I think we care in a different manner.” He resisted the urge to fidget under her gaze. He just needed to say the words, to get them out there, to man up and say it, but the words were coming so slowly, like molasses in the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not so sure Lucius. I want to spend the next lifetime with Hermione. I think you do as well. I’ve seen you over these past three years. I know I’m right. And now you tell me we don’t feel the same? I want no ordinary relationship with Hermione, and neither do you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in love with her!” He finally managed to say. And finally it was out in the open and yet he didn’t feel any lighter. “I don’t want an ordinary relationship with her either, but I don’t want what you’re suggesting. I couldn’t spend time with her as a--” he cut himself off, actually thinking over the words that Narcissa had said, ‘where she belongs with us’ and ‘share the same feelings’ and ‘I want to spend the next lifetime.’ Oh dear Lord, how had he been so dense? To think Narcissa wanted to adopt an adult woman? Even if she was the same age as Draco, that was ridiculous. And now that his brain finally, finally was working, he could see in all the ways that Narcissa had treated Hermione differently over the last year or so that screamed to him that she had fallen in love with the girl too, but had held off on telling him until...well until she had heard Hermione sing. He almost laughed. That had been the catalyst for her too. Oh, of course it was, how could it not be with them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Oh I see, I’ve misunderstood where I thought this was going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa cocked one fine blonde eyebrow. “I’d love to hear what you actually thought I was talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waved her off. “We can talk about that later.” Perhaps never. He would never hear the end of her teasing if she found out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose we could, yes. There are more important things. Like you loving Hermione as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “I do. And you feel likewise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled at him, that same small smile that always set his heart aflame. “I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sank down into his chair and stared at his rapidly cooling strew. “And...do we want to do anything about this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You tell me Lucius. Because...I don’t...I don’t think I’m opposed to it. She’s. She’s different. I think she would add something more to us. Someone to share your passion for music. Someone who understands dance for me. Just this, hot spark, I suppose, between us. We are already a fire together, beautiful and warm, but with her…” she trailed off looking for a word to describe it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Lucius could see it. All three of them, together, watching as Hermione climbed to stardom with the help of the two of them. The happiness and the ease and the years that would pass between them, the warmth, the all consuming warmth. Because if he and Narcissa were a fire, always burning, always being fed by their acts of love for one another, adding someone that understood and loved them both for who they were?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would be an inferno. It could consume us and burn us out, or it could forge us into diamonds.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Narcissa said. “Exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat and thought of that for a long moment. He was always so afraid of risk, how could he not be with his past? This would be risking more than anything before. All of the things he had done from the time he arrived to the opera house until now he had hidden behind the mask, the walls, and the reputation of the phantom. He had risked nothing of himself truly. And that was where the risks had always been for him. He could die from one wrong move on the rigging, he could be thrown in jail, a thousand other physical punishments, but none of that truly scared him. It was being rejected for who he was that sent his heart to beating fast and loud in his chest and fueled his nightmares. And to admit this, to ask Hermione to be with both of them, would be handing her a knife to sink into his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But how will we even ask her? She’s never seen me, has no idea who I am besides the voice in the wall. That’s discarding the fact that asking her into our marriage like this would be...even more unusual. An opera house only covers so many predilections after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been speaking with Draco. I think...I think we might have a chance. He wouldn’t tell me much today, but I did not want to go into this blindly with my heart on my sleeve. I think the woman might actually be interested in both of us? Granted that might not be at the same time, but we’ve started off from harder spots before.” She reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly. “And even if this goes badly, we will still have each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never have doubted that for an instant.” He laced their fingers together and felt his heartbeat slow down. She had always been his peace. Well, after they finally managed to get along after their first few years of childhood squabbles, but even then. He smiled at the memories. “That doesn’t answer how will we even ask her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The tunnel behind the mirror in the sopranos dressing room. We can whisk her away tonight, bring her here, show her the world you and I inhabit, show her and tell her what we would like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He considered the plan for a long minute. “If that is how we’re going to do it, I have a very busy few hours ahead of me. That tunnel hasn’t been used in years. I’m sure it’s covered in cobwebs.” His face scrunched up. He hated cobwebs. All the tunnels which he used regularly were rather meticulously maintained, clean and bright and as dry as anything got down here in the catacombs. He hadn’t had use of that tunnel since Lavender had stepped into the leading role.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I suppose you might want to get on that, yes?” Narcissa’s eyes sparkled as she took back her hand and started to eat. “Draco is looking after her now, but I promised I would be back before the final checks. She seemed rather relieved to hear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius smiled at the image of Hermione being calmed by Narcissa. It was something she had done for him a thousand times. And the warmth that came with the realization that that could be the rest of their lives? Oh it was a heady feeling indeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started to shovel food into his face quickly. There was much to do and not a great amount of time to do it. Narcissa just watched him in rather in horror. She had been the one to beat table manners into him after all, but there were more important things right now. And besides, Draco wasn’t there to watch his bad example, so his conscience was clear. He stood up when the bowl was empty only a few minutes later and walked over to drop a kiss on Narcissa’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be with Hermione when I come for her behind the mirror?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful. I will see you then.” He smiled at her and then went to change. It wouldn’t do to get anything he was wearing as dirty as he was sure he was about to get. Oh, he hadn’t even thought of that. He was going to have to leave himself enough time to shower and dress and come back up to watch Hermione perform as well. My, my, he really was going to be busy then.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa followed the young vicomte up to the box. The performance was about to start and quite frankly she would rather watch from the wings with Draco and the rest of the cast, but she would be damned if this boy ruined Lucius’s ability to watch Hermione’s first performance. She had been there when the new managers had suggested he use it, had protested on Lucius’s behalf, but they were not yet bent to his will. She understood that a changing of management was the best time to introduce Hermione as a viable replacement for Lavender, but it did make it rather inconvenient otherwise. Lucius always had to cause some sort of mischief to make sure he would get his way and there hadn’t been any chance to do so just yet. Were it anyone other than Hermione on stage, she was sure he would have tried something, but now it was up to her, and come hell or high water she was getting this boy out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Victome, there are other seats open, a few in the front row even.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to her, green eyes amused. “Madame Black, why are you so set on this box being left empty? From all the rest of the people in the company I’ve spoken to, it’s always empty. The Phantom, or whatever man pretending to be a ghost, never uses it. Why then, should it continue to be left empty?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everything to be seen is apparent to all eyes, monsieur. There are those in the company who do not wish to see the Phantom, and therefore do not. But if you ask them about the things he has done over the years, they will all still know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waved her thoughts off and mounted the last few stairs to the box, opening the door and slipping inside. “Stories, and over exaggerated ones at that. No man could do all of those things. And I believe it most certainly is a man who is taking this opera house for a ride.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do not know what he’s done for this house.” Narcissa bit the inside of her lip to reign herself in. It wouldn’t do to loose any of her temper here when calm reason was more appropriate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides cause problems?” He ran a hand through his hair that only seemed to make it messier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is a great patron of the arts. The opera house has the reputation it does because of his mentorship of musicians and leadership.” Narcissa stepped further into the box to see where she knew there was an entrance to a secret passage. Lucius would be coming through it any second to find that his box wasn’t empty. She had to head him off at the pass somehow if she couldn’t get this boy to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he’s such a miracle worker why doesn’t he come out and show himself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa looked the boy up and down. He screamed rich and aristocratic on the outside, but there was something about him, something that she could sense, hidden deep. She tilted her head and considered him carefully. Almost as if, ah, no that wouldn’t play well for a man who could still be stripped of his title and wealth by his parents, now would it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Surely, a man such as yourself knows there are secrets that cannot see the light of day for fear of what others will do with the knowledge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked away from her quickly and she had been right. He was hiding something, and she would bet at least a month’s salary that the man was much like Draco in his romantic leanings. But he was no artist that could freely express the love he felt for his fellow man, albeit still more discreetly than most. No, this one was tied up in a society with ironclad rules. He would spend his life in secret clubs only known to a few and go home to a wife that was little more than a status symbol, who he wouldn’t touch again after having a child or two. She almost felt bad for him, she would, if he wasn’t standing in her way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea what you mean, Madame Black. One should live their life as truly as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted at that. “If artists did that then there would be no art. We all lie, Vicomte, the type of person you are just determines what you lie about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cleared his throat and looked out at the curtain covered stage. “That sounds like the statement of a woman too far over her own head in a world of lies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I have my footing. Your words are words of a boy who hasn’t had enough life experience to know the truth yet. You’re all young courage and optimism and never say die. You heard stories of princes defeating dragons and you think that perhaps you can grab onto some of that glory by denying a man who’s run this opera house far better and far longer than anyone else. But there are no princes, there are no dragons. There are just pointless wars that could be avoided if men didn’t have far too much pride roiling around in them like the black sin it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The passageway door opened and there was Lucius. She shook her head subtly and nodded forward towards the vicomte. His frown was a sight to behold and she wondered just what he had planned for the new patron and owners in light of this slight. She was sure she would hear about it later. She nodded up towards the dome of the opera house. It wasn’t near as good a view, but he would be able to hear her at least. He nodded and slipped out of the box without a sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my impression that you haven’t had much oceassion to leave the opera house, Madame. What would you know of the outside world?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took a few steps forward to look the boy in the eyes. He was trying to put on a brave face, she could see it, but she had struck far too close to home for it to be anything other than a real facade. She could shatter him, send him from this box cursing her name, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t want anyone to shatter Draco in such a way over the fact of who he loved. She wouldn’t shatter this boy either, even if she was wrong and his secret was different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And besides the point, the lights were dimming in the hall. Hermione was about to go on and she had run out of time to secure her husband a better place to watch the performance. She sighed and walked to the edge of the box, looking down at the stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not everyone in this opera house has always had a cherished life, my lord.” She turned to look at him. “You may be in a cage, but it is gilded and pretty. Life will always be easier inside of it than in the street gutters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who says I’m in a gilded cage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes.” She smiled at him, not unkindly and gestured to one of the seats in the box. “Take a seat Victome, the show is about to begin.” She didn’t ask to take the other seat. If he was stealing the box from Lucius it was only fair that she intrude on his time as well. He didn’t open his mouth to protest and she laughed quietly. It had always been a gift of hers to render men speechless in whatever way she chose to, now was no exception.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crowd quieted and the curtain started to lift, and oh, Narcissa had seen Hermione in her dress before she had left her in Draco’s capable hands, but now, under the spotlight shining on her. She was breathtaking. She felt like she was under a spell and she didn’t even hear the song start. She just looked at Hermione, ethereal and perfect and then she looked up at Lucius and froze at the look of love on his face. Oh, if Hermione didn’t say yes, what ever were they going to do?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We never said our love was evergreen</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or as unchanging as the sea</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But if you can still remember</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop and think of me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Think of all the things</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We've shared and seen</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't think about the way</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Things might have been”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa sighed and leaned forward listening to Hermione singing. Compared to where she had been three years ago, Narcissa could hardly believe this was the same woman singing. Lucius had worked his magic and Hermione had clearly put in the work to make it take root and grow. How ironic it was that they were hopefully starting their love affair while Hermione was singing about a love long gone. Oh, there was certainly still the longing that imbued the song, but nothing like melancholy. She sat at the edge of her seat, watching Hermione every heartbeat filled with joy. And if she felt this sort of joy herself, she could only imagine what Lucius was feeling. She wished she could be with him right now, could still be if she got up and walked upstairs, but she was glued to her seat. She knew he would more than understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Think of me, think of me waking</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Silent and resigned</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Imagine me trying too hard</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To put you from my mind</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Recall those days</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Look back on all those times</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Think of the things we'll never do</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There will never be a day</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When I won't think of you”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard the Vicomte rustling beside her. “Can it be?” he whispered to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa turned toward him, cocking an eyebrow. She wasn’t about to speak over Hermione’s performance, and neither should he. It was just rude quite frankly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can it be Hermione?” He stood up in a lull in the song and clapped along with the other patrons. “Bravo!” He twisted turning back towards the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no, he wasn’t leaving in the middle of a performance. If he wasn’t a Vicomte she might think he was raised in a barn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down,” she hissed. “Whatever discovery you think you’ve made will still be here when the song ends”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned back around to look at her with wide eyes. “I know her from childhood. I need to know if she remembers me.” The spark in his eyes told of relief. She wondered if Hermione had been the last woman he’d ever had a schoolboy crush on before he’d figured out that his interest lay elsewhere. Was he pinning the last hope of being normal on Hermione, to try and woo her and then marry her and convince himself that he was happy because he had married his childhood friend? Oh, that just wouldn’t do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If she is your Hermione she will still be after the performance. Sit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at her for another long moment, wondering clearly if he should follow the orders of a woman, and a commoner at that. Yet, he still did. Narcissa smirked to herself before turning back to watch Hermione’s last verse. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They have their season so do we</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But please promise me that sometimes</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You will think of me”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The song faded out and everyone stood, the applause thunderous. She looked up to Lucius who was just opening his eyes, the grey catching the light even from so far up. He pressed his hand to his heart in a gesture she’d learned fairly early on. He felt so many happy emotions he couldn’t quite process them. For some reason it always seemed to manifest as a sweet ache above his heart. She brought her hand up to her mouth and blew him a kiss and he smiled, hand moving to mime catching the kiss like he was a schoolboy with a crush instead of her husband. He stood for a few more seconds to survey the crowd and the heaps of roses and other flowers that were being thrown at Hermione before disappearing into one of the many doors. She would see him later, she knew. She wondered just how long he was going to wait behind the mirror in the soprano’s dressing room before Hermione actually appeared. There was still the gala to get through after all. She couldn’t help but smile at the image of a pacing and brooding Lucius waiting anxiously for them to appear. He would get what he wanted, she was sure of it. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have the patience of a saint after years of waiting behind other walls for information he needed. Still, she would try to hurry the girl along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned back to the Vicomte and raised an eyebrow. “Now what was this you said about knowing Hermione?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is Hermione Granger, yes? The daughter of the violinist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. It wasn’t like lying would truly get her far. She was tempted, but what would it gain her. No, she would have to play a longer game than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Her father had a house by the sea, so does my family. We met in town one day and became fast friends. I haven’t seen her since he died. What a marvelous coincidence that she ended up here and on stage. I thought I’d never see her again. I have to go see her!” And with that he was gone from the box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well then. She looked out from the box, leaning just enough to see back into the wings. She caught Draco’s eye gestured for him to stay there. She had a few ideas of how to distract the Vicomte and quite frankly, she didn’t think her son would mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes later she was in the wings stepping beside Draco. “Where did Hermione go?” she asked, looking around. She had thought the girl would’ve been mobbed by the company congratulating her and would still be working her way through the well wishers not far off stage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gestured down the hall. “She bustled off as soon as the curtain dropped like her skirt was on fire. She never stopped and after the first few people getting polite thank yous and then her going around them, people got the message and let her go. If anything I think they like her more now after </span>
  <em>
    <span>La Carlotta</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was right. The other woman would’ve spent hours telling the cast to sing her praises. You could get away with that for the first performance of an opera, maybe, but every single one? Considering they all depended on Lavender to show up and actually do her job so they could all keep their jobs, of course they kissed up to her, but that didn’t mean anyone actually liked it. Hermione’s thank you and quite literally exiting stage left had to be refreshing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, never mind that for this exact instant, but I have things we must discuss.” She glanced back up at the box that the Vicomte hadn’t deigned to vacate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw him up there, was father angry?” Draco asked quietly. The buzz around them covered up much of their conversation, but one could never be too careful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t imagine he was happy, but I’m not sure how angry he actually is. I will see later, I suppose.” She shrugged. It was a first offence, but it was a rather large transgression, what with it being Hermione’s first performance and all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not exactly going well with these new owners and their patron, is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa shook her head. “They’ll be dealt with in time. My worry currently isn’t so much the managers as it is the Vicomte.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cocked an eyebrow in an expression that mirrored hers so perfectly she had to smile. “Why? He’s barely older than I am, surely we can run circles around him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and nodded. “Oh yes, certainly we can do that, but has Hermione told you about their former acquaintance? “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded. “She said they were childhood friends, sweethearts even, at her father’s house by the sea. He didn’t recognize her earlier though when he walked by after his introduction. I’m not sure he was looking though, he might recognize her too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He does. He recognized her on stage.” Though honestly it had taken him most of the song to do so. How close could they have really been if it took </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> long of looking at her to finally realize it was a girl he had supposedly been close to when they were younger. Damn the time that had elapsed. Someone could take Lucius from her for twenty years and she would still know him at a single glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that bad?” Draco tilted his head. She almost didn’t hear him. The audience was starting to file backstage for the start of the gala. She scowled. She was sure the new managers would come to sweep her up to smooze some potential donor or season ticket holder soon and she needed to make sure her plan would be seen out. If she had no more time to waste, then she would just have to be as blunt as she knew how.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If she were any other woman, no, but she is a woman your father is interested in.” She stepped closer to him, not wanting to raise her voice, but the din of popping champagne bottles along with the racket of so many people talking was too much. She was practically speaking right into Draco’s ear. “I admit, I find allure in her as well. I don’t want the Vicomte to...distract from that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco pulled back enough to look her in the face. “Mother, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reached out and tucked a piece of hair that had flown free of his well coiffed hair into place. “And if I was?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God above, both of you too?” He rubbed his hand over his face. “No, I don’t want to know. No, no, no, you are my parents and she’s my best friend so long as you’re happy, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t need to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Us too?” Narcissa’s brow crinkled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed. “Whatever you’re planning, let’s just say that I don’t think it will be turned down, and leave it at that, yes? Just tell me, what do I need to do to make sure the Vicomte doesn’t throw a wrench in whatever is supposed to happen tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled at her son. So they wouldn’t be turned down, would they? She knew her son was clever enough to know exactly what she meant, but still, she questioned it. If she didn’t know what he meant explicitly and then she got her hopes up, well, where would she be if Hermione just said she wanted to be friends? Cautious optimism sounded like a better route for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure the Vicomte will come to the soprano’s dressing room later tonight after he’s done being paraded around like a prize pony. If Hermione has run off somewhere, I’m sure he won’t find her before that. The managers will capture him long before he manages to find a spot someone who lives here would hide.” She frowned at that. Better to be safe than sorry. “Though if you could find her to make sure he doesn’t get to her before that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waved off her concern. “I was planning on following her wherever she went off to before you caught my eye. I’m fairly certain she’s in the chapel, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, good. I’m sure she’ll have to make her rounds around the guests with the managers as well, but as soon as possible, escort her to the dressing room. I’ll find you both whenever I’m done with my own rounds.” She rolled her eyes quickly. Discussing ballet with men who only understood that women in tights were attractive was her least favorite part of the job. “After that, I need you to make sure he doesn’t get into the dressing room by whatever means necessary. We’ll be using the tunnel behind the mirror. No one need know that she’s left the room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father’s not only meeting her but taking her home?” His eyes went wide. “He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> interested? He trusts her that much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she not worth that trust?” She bared just the edge of her teeth. If she wasn’t trustworthy she would call it all off in a second, her own interest in the girl be damned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, she is, quite frankly I think she’s the best person in this hell hole of a place, but, I just mean, it’s father? When was the last time he’s met another person face to face, let alone felt safe enough to show them a way down to where he lives? Part of the reason why he lives so deep is so no one will find it. She’ll be able to after tonight. Hermione’s memory is absolutely ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I believe he does as well. Remember, darling, we are her teachers. We’re well aware of how quickly she picks things up.” She reached out and cupped his face. “Your father trusts her. I don’t think it’s a misplaced trust, and I don’t think you do either. No matter how anything else turns out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and put a hand on top of hers. “No, it’s not, but I just…” he trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. We both have been protecting him so long it’s hard to stop even in the good times.” She took her hand away from his face and laced her fingers through his. “But I think this could be good for him, for both of us, for all of us. I’m wary of the risk, but I’m willing to take it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s hard to say no to that, now isn’t it. Not that I was going to, I mean I already said yes, but, whatever, you know what I mean mother. The more important question here is how am I supposed to distract the Vicomte from his goal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “Oh, I don’t think it will be hard, dear. I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s actually much like yourself in his love of men. I’m not sure he knows that about himself yet what with how the aristocrats are about these things, but I think a charming, good looking boy such as yourself can find a way to persuade him that there are other places to be tonight. Goodness knows I think you’ve convinced less willing men.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco frowned. “Are you sure? I didn’t get that feeling from him at all. And I would think that my sense about these things should be better than yours mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco, darling, I knew you loved men before you ever did. Trust me. And besides, I’ve heard tell that you think he’s rather attractive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco spluttered, trying to get out a denial but failing drastically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dancers talk, you know this. And when they talk they treat me as if I’m nothing more than a wall hanging. It makes checking up on you very easy. How do you think I always knew what you were doing when you were younger?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll kill them all. I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, now, we still need them for the rest of the season unless you’re hiding a better troupe of dancers I’m not aware of.” She squeezed his hand once before letting go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you well know I’m not. I may not be dancing with Pansy anymore, but I would give anything to toss her out completely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hummed her agreement, but thought nothing more of Pansy. The girl was another season from quitting at the most. No, her son in front of her was a larger concern. She wanted him to be happy, truly happy. She wanted him to find love, the real and true and deep love that she shared with his father and perhaps, hopefully, with Hermione as well. Was she asking too much from him now to try and woo the Vicomte? She hadn’t had a second thought about it until now, until she was about to walk off and see her plans be done. What if he fell for the Vicomte? That would never be a happy ending. It couldn’t be, what with how things were. He would have to go off and marry and leave Draco alone and brokenhearted. How had she not thought of this until now? What sort of mother was she?</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Honestly, dearheart, so long as he’s distracted it doesn’t matter how. I don’t want you to be hurt in all of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her, that same instant, lit up smile that he had as a boy. “You worry too much. Besides, I have the Black family good looks on my side. If that man has an ounce of curiosity in him, I won’t be the one getting hurt.” He gestured at the abs that were still on display in the rather skimpy costume. “These don’t hurt either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Considering how much time she spent worshiping Lucius’s own rather toned physique, she couldn’t say much to refute that. “I know, but you are my son. I’m supposed to worry about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, yes, now go talk to stuffy men in tophats. I’ll find Hermione and bring her back up here and then quite literally defend her honor. Or well, nevermind this metaphor is not going a good way for me.” A blush started on his cheeks before he turned. “Bye, mother!” And then he was slipping off into the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed and frowned after him. She supposed he would be fine just as he said, but where she was willing to take risks with her own happiness, she never wanted him to have to do so. And she had a sneaking suspicion that perhaps the Vicomte would sneak into her son’s life much like Hermione had snuck into her and Lucius’s. She shook her head. It would do her no good to look forward to a future that had yet to pass, and yet she still worried as she turned to try and sort what ridiculously puffed up man she should talk to first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione sat looking at the lit candle over the picture of her father. It was quiet down here, blessedly so. It had all been so loud since she had finished her number. Everyone thanked her, everyone wanted to talk to her. She was sure that the managers were looking for her right now so they could parade her around, their new talent for all to see. But she very much just wanted to be in a practice room, either the one downstairs with Lucius or the ballet studio, it didn’t matter. She would take either, but it had been too much to get to either of them. So she had come here, to the little used chapel. It had been almost a straight shot from the stage to this room after everyone had gotten the message to express their congratulations from a distance and let her pass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had done it. She was elated, truly, but spending the evening being fawned over by the masses wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted...well. She wanted what she had wanted for a long while now. It was selfish of her, really, but she couldn’t help it. Her heart was set, and that was that, even if her mind tried to rail against it with logic and reason. When she was young she hadn’t understood her father when he has said that sometimes the heart and the brain weren’t in agreement. She had always been a logical child. If she wanted something but knew it wasn’t a good idea, she just...didn’t. But oh, love was different, wasn’t it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione, where in the world have you been hiding?” Draco asked, coming into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned to him. “Why ask where in the world when you’ve obviously found me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes. “It’s an expression and you know it.” He sank to the ground next to her. “Wanted some time alone, huh? To tell your father about what happened tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. It was true enough. She had told her father about singing on stage tonight, but that wasn’t all she had told him. “It’s almost hard to believe it happened and yet.” She smoothed her hands over the wonderful dress that she had worn on stage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember feeling like that the first time I had a solo.” He looked off into space, a little dreamy, a smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sat, looking at her best friend and just, still unable to contain what had happened within her. “You know, it’s funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco turned to her, that questioning eyebrow raised. When she was younger she had always tried to copy the move, but she could only ever raise both eyebrows at once and that wasn’t half as scathing a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Before my father died, he told me he would send an angel of music to look after me. When I was younger and first came to the opera house, that comforted me more than I think he ever thought it would. After all, I was in an opera house, where better for an angel of music to reside? I used to dream he’d appear beside my bed and he would sing songs to me, all my favorites from when I was young.” She smiled fondly at the memory of the dreams. At first they’d been a respite to the nightmares she had had on first arriving, but then they had evolved into the only time she heard the songs of her youth and her native tongue. She barely even remembered anything other than French anymore, but when she was young she had missed the familiar sounds, even as she understood French just as well. “But then of course I grew up and stopped believing in angles and demons and everything else, yet here we are. In a way, your father is my angel of music, even if he’s not an actual angel, he’s close enough. He’s been everything I could have ever asked for and more and I--” She stopped and shook her head. There weren’t words for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Draco asked after a long second’s pause. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a foolish wish. I know he has reasons for remaining behind the walls. I do. But I just. I just wish…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wish he would come out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded turning away from Draco to stare at the flickering candle in front of her again. “More than anything. It used to be a comfort, knowing he could be anywhere, watching, always with me, the unseen genius behind the singer I’m becoming. It’s...It’s not enough now. Draco I just, I feel so much sometimes I feel as if I’m being ripped apart. And then with your mother in the picture too I just. How is it possible for one person to feel so much and not burst at the seams?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you’re so much like him sometimes, I have to laugh. When you two get into a room together, and yes, I mean when, not if, as loathe as I am to discuss my parents and you and whatever nasty bits you might want to touch of theirs while I’m very, very sober, when you get into a room together, you two will get on like a house on fire. In a good way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked at her friend again. He was staring towards the one rather atrocious drawing of a saint Hermione had long ago forgotten the name of, a bit of a smile on his face. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Granger, I think some things you have to figure out for yourself. You’ll like it better that way, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffed. “You get this mysteriousness from your mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed and bumped his shoulder into her. “Oh, I definitely do. Probably the flare for drama from father. I’m not sure the loving men didn’t come from both of them. I haven’t exactly asked father but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slapped his arm lightly. “Draco!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll understand when you see how he dresses! No straight man dresses like that. Perhaps yes, he does have a preference for women, but I mean, it’s not like he’s gotten to go out an experiment now has he, and he does love everything that’s beautiful. It could happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned at her. “I know, but you feel better now, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pouted. He was right, she did feel better, a bit less like she was about to burst, calmer, like she could go out and face the tide of the audience who would be desperate to have some piece of her on this, her debut. Still, she wished that she could see him first. Or even Narcissa. She would take what she could get, but she knew Narcissa was probably making her own rounds at the party. She sighed. Oh well. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, she supposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, but only a little bit before you go getting a big head about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a long while before Hermione started to hum quietly. She had woken from a dream earlier in the week, hearing a ghost of a melody she couldn’t place. It wasn’t from any classical piece she’d heard, not from the opera or ones she remembered her father playing, but still, it was vivid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that? Something new of father’s?” Draco asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not sure what it’s from.” She tilted her head to the side and thought about it for a second before she started to sing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Angel of music, guide and guardian</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grant to me your glory</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who is this angel?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Angel of music, hide no longer</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Secret and strange angel”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The words had come to her as if she was still in that same dream the music had come from. She had been learning a great deal from Lucius about music theory and songwriting. Was the music in her dream something she had actually thought up? Was it original? Or was it just something from a long forgotten piece? She was sure Lucius would know, but yet she wasn’t sure she wanted to show him yet. She supposed that might be the biggest indicator that it was truly something she had come up on her own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never heard that one. It’s pretty. Fitting for right now considering you really want to see Father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Hermione said, half distracted. “Yeah I suppose it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We probably should get up to the party before they send out a search team for you. If we let them know this is where you hide out then you’ll never know peace down here.” He stood up and offered his hand to Hermione. She took it and pulled herself up as gracefully as she could in a dress that had to weigh at least thirty pounds. It was gorgeous, but not exactly practical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never had to impress anyone at these parties. I wonder if I’ll be any good at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please,” Draco scoffed, “you’re good at everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They made their way through the opera house back up towards the party. “How does your mother handle these things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you think she handles them? Scathing but oh so subtle comments at their intelligence among other things, but mostly that. I imagine she won’t be putting up with it as long as usual tonight anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, she’ll want to congratulate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione squinted at him. She had a feeling there was something he wasn’t telling her. “That only takes a few minutes at most, that wouldn’t really cut her night short.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you want to spend any longer than you had to kissing a rich old man’s ass?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, I know you don’t have a thing for older men, but that seems like something you’d rather more enjoy than your mother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco’s disgusted face was rather hilarious. Hermione couldn’t hold in a laugh as they climbed one set of stairs. She almost missed a step, grabbing onto the handrail before continuing to laugh as she more carefully ascended the remaining stairs. “You’re too easy, Draco.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one with the thing for older people. I would much rather have a man our age with a nicely toned body, thank you.” He shivered. “I don’t want to have to deal with saggy anything until I’m old, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really don’t think you’re father is old enough to have anything saggy yet. Unless your mother also has a thing for older men.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, father’s actually a few years younger than her, I believe. He’s not really sure. I’m sure you’ll see later.” He stopped for a second before continuing on. “I mean, you could ask mother, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco,” she drew out his name in a dangerous tone of voice. “What aren’t you telling me. First you’re on about when I see your father and then I’ll see later, what’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine, I was trying to keep it a surprise until later because I was sure you would believe I was lying or something, but Father’s supposed to be coming to fetch you from the dressing room later. You and mother. I’m assuming she’ll explain that to you after she manages to fend off whatever man in a top hat is talking to her and then pry the managers off of your back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” She felt her heart beating hard in her chest. If Draco was wrong...she might just break in half.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, she told me about it before telling me to go find you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stopped walking, standing behind the curtains of the stage, the spotlight casting shadows on the filmy curtain separating the stage from the auditorium. Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was really happening? She was going to meet Lucius? Truly, she was going to meet him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione?” Draco grabbed her hand. “Your hands are cold and your face just went white. I thought this was good news. I figured you would’ve tackled me in a hug by now. This was not what I was expecting and honestly I have no idea what to do right now.” He reached out and patted her on the shoulder. “There, there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m frightened,” Hermione managed to say through stiff lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why? This is everything you wanted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco, if I see him, if I find him attractive, the crush I have on him, it will never end. I’ll break. I know I will. I know you said if I was on good terms with him that your mother would be endeared to me, but this is...it’s too much. There’s no way I can have what I want, not really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione, snap out of it. It’s not like you to be afraid before anything has even happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She crossed her arms over her chest. She could feel just how cold her hands were not, pressed against her upper arms. “No, but nothing has been this important before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco stepped right in front of her and held her gaze. “Hermione, I’m only going to say this out loud once because any more than that will scar my brain permanently and I will probably die from sheer disgust at even thinking about my parents’ sex life, but. They aren’t taking you down to our home just as a friend and performer. They’re inviting you home so they can ask you to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>with </span>
  </em>
  <span>them. Both you and they are nervous about the same thing. They’re worried they’ll reject them because dating two people is weird even for the opera house. You’re worried that it’s not even an option because they’re married. Just. For the love of god don’t let them miscommunicate with you and make all three of you miserable. They want it if you do. Got it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione just blinked at him for a long moment. Surely she had to have misunderstood him. There was no way. It was a pipe dream. A pipe dream. It had to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop thinking with that big brain of yours. You’re overthinking like that time you swore you actually understood was Il Trovatore was about. Don’t make yourself go down a week long rabbit hole that has you waking up on Sunday with hair as big as the Louvre.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was one time! And I know I was close!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached out and grabbed both of her arms and shook her gently. “The point here is, don’t overthink and ruin it. Just continue being you and you’ll all be happy, ok? And this is literally the last thing I’m going to say about it ever again. I’m not helping you or mother or father with any love connection plans ever after tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t been able to say no to me since we were seven. I really don’t think it’s changing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stuck a finger in her face. “You watch me! Now come on, we’re almost back at the party, and god do I need a drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You act like talking about your parents’ dating life is the end of the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it is, trust me. I’m dying on the inside and only champagne, or any alcohol really, can fix it. That, and watching you suffer through some simpering old men talking to you about how ‘you just have this lovely glow’ or ‘your voice is like an angel’s’ or whatever the hell else the bloody bastards say that you’ll have to politely nod through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione finally uncrossed her arms, feeling a little bit of her normal composure settle around her again. “I’ll loop you into the conversations, don’t think I won’t, Draco.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Promises, promises, let’s see if you can manage to follow through.” He stuck out his tongue at her before turning and making his way backstage towards the party once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco hung on to one last glass of champagne. The party was starting to finally wind down and he had a pleasant buzz going. Considering tonight was like every night during the season and he had practice in the morning he didn’t want to really go past a pleasant buzz otherwise waking up for practice in the morning was going to probably kill him and it was a very long way from Sunday and a day off. So he would sip at this glass and then just stand by this door with progressively less and less to do. Hermione and his mother had finally managed to escape only about twenty minutes before. He wondered just how long he was going to have to stand here before it was safe to go up to his bed and fall into it. He supposed when the halls cleared completely and then maybe a half an hour after that. Yeah, that sounded good. If the Vicomte didn’t show up by then, he probably wasn’t going to show up at all. He’d only caught a few fleeting glimpses of the man all night. It had made his job of keeping him away from Hermione easy enough at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except now he saw the other man headed directly for the doors. Well, there went his quiet plans for just standing beside the door, sipping champagne. Why did mother always have to be right about, well, everything that he could remember. He gulped down the rest of his champagne and set the glass aside. Having his hands completely free wasn’t the worst idea just in case. In case of what he wasn’t sure, but better safe than sorry he supposed. Then he stepped from the wall and headed straight towards the Vicomte. Better to confront some problems directly and this seemed like one of those problems.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Victome!” Draco called, smiling at the man. “How has the party and the opera house been treating you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man blinked at Draco for a moment, obviously surprised that he’d been stopped on his way to his goal. Yet, he still stopped, politeness bred into every ounce of him. Good, Draco had been counting on that. Anyone else from the opera house would have just told him to fuck off and been on their way. Ah, but you could always count on the gentry to be raised right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, hello.” His eyes swept up and down Draco, lingering on his mostly bare chest. Hmm, perhaps his mother had been right after all, though he certainly hadn’t given the feeling off earlier. “The party has been decent, of course, Madame McGonagall and Monsieur Dumbledore do know how to throw a party. Otherwise my time at the opera house has been short but sweet all the same. I look forward to spending more time here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco laughed. “Any party is good so long as there is alcohol, of course good looking people to talk to can’t hurt either. Certainly the other members of the audience are rather fond of talking to the dancers.” He glanced over at all the older men leering at the girls in their rather skimpy costumes from Hannibal. Not that he could really say much, he had a scrap of a vest on, but still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are all rather beautiful to watch on stage.” His eyes drifted from Draco’s face again and Draco had to quell a smirk. Of course his mother was right but perhaps he wouldn’t let her know that right away. Mother’s were far too aware of their own rightness already, his especially. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we do work rather hard to be that way.” He gestured at his abs, might as well play up what he was already staring at. “I mean these don’t just come from sitting around eating grapes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I don’t suppose they do.” There was color in his cheeks now and Draco bit the inside of his lip. Oh, he’d definitely been attracted to the man earlier when he’d been introducing himself on stage, how could anyone not be with that roguish, messy hair and those stunning green eyes, but now, blushing and very blatantly attracted to him, or at least his muscles, it was rapidly developing into a </span>
  <em>
    <span>situation</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, you don’t look like you’re just skin and bones under that frock coat, either. Do you fence, horseback ride, polo, you have to do something.” He resisted the urge to reach out and squeeze the other man’s bicep. He was already laying fairly thick for a man he was rather sure wasn’t actually comfortable with his sexuality, what with him looking at Draco’s abs, and then looking away in rapid succession. But he’d never been careful before with his exploits. If they broke and ran away, what was it to him? This man, it was different, both in that if he ran he would probably immediately try and find Hermione to convince himself of his manly interest in women again, and because, well, he was just the most attractive man that Draco had possibly ever seen and he wasn’t about to blow his chance on a man this attractive and potentially interested in what he had to offer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I fence and ride, I have played polo, but it isn’t really my sport of choice. If a horse is doing most of the work, is it really sport? I’m more for rowing. Working in concert with others in order to beat the competition by going the fastest? I find it thrilling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, Draco found it thrilling too, mostly because the man under that clothing had to be finely sculpted from all that rowing and lean and wiry was always a favorite type of man. “Oh, that sounds delightful. I’ve been on a few boats before, but I’ve never been in a rowing competition, mostly just to get from point A to point B.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, well, it’s hard work and a good workout if you ever try it out.” A cute frown graced his face as a thought flashed across it. “Well, I wouldn’t much try it out in the Seine. I know it’s gotten better recently, what with indoor plumbing becoming somewhat more popular in modern homes, but it’s still…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rather rancid, yes, I’ve lived in Paris all my life. You do get used to the stink in the summer, I assure you, but I’ll be happier on the day where it no longer smells at all, if I live to even see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte laughed. “I hope to see that day as well. When I was younger I wished to live anywhere but our country estate. It was so boring. My parents never liked the city, I couldn’t understand why. There was so much to do here. Now I suppose I understand at least some of their dislike. It’s hard to beat the smell of the ocean with well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The alternative.” Draco snorted. “I’ve never been to the sea.” Father had been convinced a few times in his childhood to leave the opera during the off season and they had ventured a few places, but never all that far from Paris. It hadn’t really bothered him. Travel in carriages across bumpy roads wasn’t exactly comfortable, but suddenly he wished he had at least seen the sea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I imagine there isn’t a great amount of time you have off to take a few weeks to travel to see it. It’s lovely, it feels like home to me considering I grew up there, and if you have the chance, you should take it. The ocean makes us look like ants. It’s bigger than you could ever imagine and can be more violent than any man, but it brings us food and life and a great many other things.” He perked up, excited to be explaining something he was clearly passionate about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you have your fun in the city for a few months and then return home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte’s face scrunched up again, this time in a much more annoyed look. “No, I’ll be here for...a while I suppose. My parents are, well I love them dearly, but now that I’ve taken on the title, they are constantly bothering me with proposals from other gentry about taking their daughter’s hand in marriage. They go on and on about why it would be a good match for this and that reason, but I’ve always been more fond of the idea of marrying for a reason other than money. They don’t really understand. They married for a good political match and did end up falling in love later, but I know they’re lucky. I’ve seen others in our social circle and it’s not...ideal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco looked at him with open eyes. He felt that way too, of course, he did want to marry for love and love alone, but that was rather barred to him considering his love was a crime under the law currently. Oh, did this man in front of him have a storm coming if he ever actually realized where his heart lay. Because Draco was rather certain of it now. No other man on this planet talked of love over everything else unless they had some passing interest in the same sex. Draco had met more than his fair share of straight men who didn’t much care if they loved their wives so long as their needs were met. Pigs. His father had taught him much better than that from a young age.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d love to marry for love as well. I understand, though my parents aren’t exactly banging at my door for me to go and get married. If anything the opposite. I think I’ll forever be a six year old in my mother’s eyes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte’s smile was something Draco was sure poets would write about if they knew of it. His heart was beating hard in his chest and suddenly he understood just why his mother had been worried about him getting hurt earlier. If he could fall in love with a man in under ten minutes, then certainly that was what was happening now. Or at least deeply in lust with the man. An inconvenient crush. Something of that sort. What it was really didn’t matter because all he really wanted to do was keep him talking and smiling and laughing at things that he had said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I think underneath it all my mother is like that as well, but with my father in the background grumbling about duty to the family it’s hard. I think she wants me to be happy, I’m the baby of the family and she coddled me for a number of years, but you know.” He shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re here in Paris to get away from their constant nagging then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, letters are far easier to ignore and a far slower form of communication. That, plus I’m here doing family business means they are a bit softer on the hard sell of finding me a wife.” He sighed. “That and I have been spending at least some of the time in court. I think they hope I’ll find a wife there that’s more to my liking, but everyone there just seems...well, imagine an opera diva but then ten times cattier and more viscous to boot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco shivered visibly. “No thank you, I don’t think I will. Lavender is bad enough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lavender?” He asked, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Carlotta isn’t her real name. It’s a stage name she’s pretending is her real name. Her real name is actually Lavender Brown.” He grinned, leaning forward like he was telling the man a secret. Perhaps a secret from the general public, but definitely not from the company. They all knew the truth, if he was funding them he deserved to know at least some of the good gossip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What sort of name is Lavender Brown? It’s two colors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco snorted, trying to hold in the laugh but failing. A few men around him turned to look at what a spectical they were making but Draco could give fuck all about them really. “I’ve said the exact same thing. It’s even more ridiculous than </span>
  <em>
    <span>Piangi’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>real name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I sort of guessed that that was probably a fake name. The red hair, I don’t think that’s a very Italian thing, at least stereotypically.” The Vicomte returning Draco’s grin. “And what exactly is your name, is it something suitably Italian to fit in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God no, everyone knows that France has the best ballet dancers. If anything I would change it to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> French, not less. Something like Pierre Bisset or similar. People outside of France wouldn’t know the difference.” He shrugged and shuddered a little. Italian? He might just die. “But I rather like my given name, not many people are named Draco, and I am not like many people, or anyone else really, so it suits.” He winked at the Vicomte whose blush deepend to an even more adorable shade of cherry red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard tell that you were Madame Black’s son? So Draco Black then?” He ran his hand through his hair, perhaps trying to straighten it, or just giving himself something to do with his hands to distract himself. Either way his hair got more wild and Draco really was melting now. How in the world was this man so perfect after only a few minutes? He really should take a step back, take a deep breath and slow himself down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a step forward instead. “Yes, dancing is part of the family business. Though my father is a composer. Ironically opera. So no matter what I suppose I’m staying in the family business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” The Vicomte actually looked curious. “Would he have written anything I know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, a few years ago he had a modest success with his adaptation of Dante’s Inferno. Father’s work is either dark as pitch and people are scandalized, but lining up to see it, or absolutely the most lovesick opera of all time. He’s writing an opera for mother now, actually. Well. Has written, but he keeps revising it, saying it’s not ready yet because it’s not perfect. He’s performed a few songs for her so far though, it will be just as love lorn as ever, but I think he might end up landing somewhere in the middle, a dark romance of a sort. I expect that one will have the entire house full for months.” He was proud of his father, of course he was. To take a life of nothing and truly make it into something, to still be able to love and produce art as he did? It was amazing. So amazing that maybe he’d said to much about everything, but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! I heard about that production even all the way out on the coast. Mother and Father couldn’t be persuaded to come see it, though. Shame. Maybe the house will put it on again while I’m patron.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he asked father to make it so, they definitely would, season programs be damned. Then again, there wasn’t as big a role for Hermione in that one, and since Father was trying to launch her career now,  well. Perhaps next season. The Victome would still be around. Well, he hoped he would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, earliest next season, most likely, will you be around?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, trust me, I’m not going anywhere until either I find someone to marry or the world ends, whichever comes first. And at this point I really have no idea which one will.” He shrugged bashfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s for lack of prospects what with your looks, fine physique, and your title probably doesn’t hurt either, but the first two would be more than enough to have women lining up to try. Maybe some others.” He floated the idea casually. The Vicomte could take that statement anyway he wished. But he truly hoped the man got the subtext.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked away from Draco, a bit nervous suddenly. “I, uh, well, yes, but I, well.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want someone to only be interested in me for just a title, or looks. Though I suppose looks could start something, I don’t want that to be all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco bit his lip. Well. Now was a good time to say something rather forward, a bit romantic maybe. Something. He just had to make his brain work a little more than it had been for the past few minutes to come up with what that something was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know how you feel. I mean, I don’t have a title that I have to worry about someone wanting, but the other things, I can relate to. I’m enjoying where I am in life right now and I don’t want to settle down, settle down, but I do want to find someone who I know I can count on for when we do want to find some quieter life than living in an opera house. I don’t think I’m about to become a ballet master, someone else can have mother’s job, I’m a horrible teacher. Some nice place right outside the city would be wonderful, still excitement, still access to the arts, but quiet.” He looked up at the Vicomte, opening his eyes wide. Now was the time to lay it out there. “And you seem like a person that anyone would be lucky to settle down with, if people took the chance to get to know you better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte might be what qualified as a blushing mess now. He was positively scarlet and sputtering, but he hadn’t moved a single inch away from Draco. He took that as a good sign. If he was really uncomfortable he would’ve turned tail and ran. No, he wanted to be this sort of uncomfortable. That or he really didn’t want to make a bad impression, but Draco thought it was more the former than the latter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, thank you. You seem like you would be nice to settle down with too. Of course I could be wrong and you could secretly be the ballet diva behind the opera diva.” His grin was a little weak after all the blushing, but it was still there and still melted Draco into a pile of goo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, I’m dramatic, yes, but never a diva.” He shrugged. “Growing up in an opera house you have one of two choices, you look at a diva and say ‘oh there’s someone to emulate’ or you look at them and go ‘oh god no thank you I never want to be that person.’ Most sane people choose the latter, so that’s the path that I took.” He shrugged. It wasn’t hard. The diva before Lavender had been truly amazing, Father had even liked her, and she had been there for seven years before moving on, most of Draco’s childhood that he remembered, really. But she had been an absolute nightmare to work with. It hadn’t taken him long to get the message, no one liked a diva, even a skilled one, not really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Victome stepped a little closer. “What’s it like, growing up in a place like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An idea sparked in Draco’s mind that would both get the man away from the dressing room, and get them alone so perhaps the Victome wasn’t so self conscious about his true desires. “Well, would you like a tour from someone who, quite frankly, hasn’t spent more than a handful of months in their entire life away from this place? I know all the interesting places and hidden passageways.” He smiled as charmingly as he could up at the Victome and prayed that the man would say yes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco smiled up at him, beaming and brilliant and the Vicomte looked like he was about to faint. He preened at having that effect on the man. Good. He knew he was good looking but it was always a nice thing to see it confirmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked around. The party was starting to break up, it would still go another hour or two, but it was visibly more empty than when they had started talking. Just how long had they been bantering back and forth? He only felt it was a few minutes. Maybe he had just missed the signs of the party slowing before. Or maybe he really had lost time talking to the man in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on then,” Draco said, “the party is starting to wind down. I don’t think we’ll be missed.” He took a chance and held out his arm, smile morphing into a silly grin. He hoped that the Vicomte could take a joke, or at least, well, play along like it was a joke. He saw the flash of surprise and perhaps even wanting that crossed the man’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Victome set his hand on Draco’s arm, hesitantly, eyes darting around to see if anyone was looking. No one was, they were all too wrapped up in their own merrymaking. Draco led him off towards the darker parts of the opera house, laying a hand over his and squeezing gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Costumes or set design first?” He asked. Those were always the places people wanted to see, also the places that were the farthest out of the way from the party, which was exactly what he wanted at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Costumes, I think. Everything I’ve seen so far on everyone has been so well made. I’d like to see where it all comes together. Also, perhaps see more of the costumes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. The storage room down there has a hundred different show’s worth of costumes. I used to play hide and seek down there when I was little. The trick was to always hide in the skirts of some ridiculously large dress. No one ever did find me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I imagine so. The hoop skirts when we were younger were truly huge. I swear, I never understood how my mother didn’t knock things over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Practice, I’m guessing. That, and perhaps making sure nothing breakable was around to begin with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte laughed as Draco led them to a set of stairs and then down. The lamps were dimmed. No one was really supposed to be back here, they were trying to discourage wandering party goers, it was standard procedure for every gala, but Draco knew the way by heart and dim light wasn’t about to stop him. He led the Vicomte carefully down the steps and then turned a corner at the bottom and led them into rows of sewing machines, fabrics and embellishments everywhere, the room an organized chaos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh wow, there’s so much going on already. Are they getting ready for the next opera?” His fingers drifted over some left out crushed velvet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some of this probably is, we’re putting on Il Muto next. Those costumes will be rather intricate and take time, but some of this is still for Hannibal. It’s a bit of organized chaos down here at all times but Aunt Bellatrix always knows exactly when each piece will be finished, by the hour, which I’m not exactly sure how in the world she manages it, but she does. Always has as long as I’ve been alive. Pretty sure it’s some dark magic, unclear.” He laughed and tugged the Victome on to the back of the workshop area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if things had gone to plan they would’ve put on Hannibal in full tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned and looked at the Vicomte with an arched eyebrow. “Vicomte, if you stick around long enough as patron, you’ll figure out rather quickly that opening nights rarely go as planned, especially with Lavender in the starring role.” He rolled his eyes. “But even if we had gone on to full production, the costumes would have been done. Perhaps minutes before they were needed, but done nonetheless. Like I said. Black magic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he tugged him the last few feet to the nondescript door that hid the entire costume reserves of the opera and pulled it open. He gestured for the Vicomte to go first and then followed him in. This room was well lit, he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if Aunt Bella was lurking around somewhere in here working on a last minute project as she was wont to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte gasped. “Oh, well, all that black magic is truly worth it, if you get something like this.” He walked off towards the racks, hands trailing along garments, pulling them out at random to get a closer look at some of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, some of the things in here are old enough that Aunt Bella had nothing to do with them, but I get what you mean. Not that they really put dancers in anything really exciting. I seem to always be missing a shirt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte turned to look Draco up and down. “It isn’t a bad look for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draoc’s heart fluttered in his chest. If that wasn’t blatant flirting he didn’t know what was. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be a bad look on you either, but…” he trailed off and walked part way down the next aisle over from the other man. Hopefully it hadn’t been moved in one of Aunt Bella’s mad reorganization riffs. He looked for a few seconds before smiling and pulling out perhaps his favorite outfit in there. “Sometimes you’d rather be wearing something as splendid as this, and making sure people can’t take their eyes off of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, wow.” The Vicomte hurried over to stand beside Draco and took the hanger from him with gentle hands. “This is amazing. It looks like liquid sunlight. What production is this supposed to be for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something ridiculously avant garde they did when I was maybe six or seven. The owners were different and the maestro too, more daring than the set we have now. I know McGonagall and Dumbledore recruited you to be the patron, but they don’t seem anymore the daring type than Slughorn was. So nothing we’d do again any time soon. From what I can remember the lead tenor was supposed to be the sun. Thus this.” He gestured at the outfit, flowing gold silk and sparkling gold lace starched within an inch of its life. Though it could just be actual gold thread, he’d never thought to ask. He’d just seen it as a child, in all its shining glory, and had wanted to wear it. Actually, looking at it now he probably could, though it would be a little loose on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked over the Vicomte and smirked. Oh, he had an idea. A very, very good idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I think the man who played the part was around your size and build if you wanted to see how it looked on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte bit his lip, not tearing his eyes away from the garment. “I couldn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s around to see?” He hadn’t heard the telltale crashes and mutterings of Aunt Bella lurking around. Perhaps she had actually made it to the party after all and someone actually holding her attention. He wondered what unsuspecting woman would end up in her bed tonight rather seduced by his aunt’s wild energy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I damage it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about production that we’re probably never going to put on again didn’t you understand. By the time anyone pulls this out to actually wear again, if there is any damage they’ll just think it’s from all the time it’s spent in storage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waffled for another moment before nodding. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt then.” The Vicomte finally looked up again and looked around. “Any changing rooms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. There were, little as they were used, but they were well out of sight from where they were now. And they hadn’t been part of his plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged. “An opera house isn’t exactly the seat of modesty. Most of us just strip out in the open.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vicomte hesitated for a short second before shrugging himself. “When in Rome then.” He handed Draco the hanger and started carefully disrobing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco didn’t look away as first his frock coat, then his vest, bowtie, and finally his shirt came off and wow, he had been right about how fit the man was. “You do indeed keep in shape, my Lord.” His eyes were glued to the rather pronounced v leading down to rather more delightful things. If he let his imagination run wild he could imagine licking it, but he should reign himself in before finding himself in a rather embarrassing situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Harry,” the Vicomte said, “I think this counts us close enough friends that you can use my given name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco felt like his eyes should be boring a hole in the man with just how hard he was looking, but he still didn’t look away. “Perhaps, but I’m guessing your servants have seen you in more than this state of undress and they don’t have the honor of your given name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never have much liked to use servants for any task I can easily do myself. Lord knows I don’t need to lace a corset to get ready, so I get dressed myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I insist you call me Draco.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry smiled at him. “It’s settled then, Draco.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shouldn’t be so exciting just for someone to use his first name, but Draco felt himself blushing. Perhaps it was dim enough that Harry couldn’t tell? He would have more faith in that assumption if they were still in the workshop or on the stairs, but this room was rather well lit. Well, it shouldn’t be so bad. Harry had been red since before they had left the party together.  In comparison he had nothing to be embarrassed about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Harry was slipping off his pants and Draco had to look away because the amount of desire that surged through him was rather too much. Were this some common boy from the opera or one of the shops around them, he wouldn’t have hesitated, but this was different. Besides, he rather knew something about the costume that Harry didn’t that would satisfy at least some of his now burning need to touch the man in front of him. Harry tugged on the pants with ease and they sat low on his hips, hugging them like the costume was made for him and not a tenor that Draco had forgotten the name of long ago. Then he pulled on the top gently and wiggled it around until it sat in some semblance of where it should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is rather drafty.” Harry tried to look over his shoulder and see why he could still feel the rather chill air, but the lace was blocking him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, because of all the lace they made the back a hook opening so that the fabric would be loose enough putting it on it wouldn’t mess with the rest of the design.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose that does make sense. There is rather a lot of lace. Sun’s rays, I’m guessing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I think there was some plot point that needed it to be like this, but I’m unsure. Could just be Aunt Bella being Aunt Bella. She always has been a bit over the top.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well considering just how beautiful this is, I think she can continue.” He tried to reach behind himself to fasten the closing, but the lace got in the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco smiled to himself internally and stepped forward. “Let me.” He walked behind the Vicomte and started closing the little hooks one by one, fingers “accidentally” brushing the skin of the other man’s back. He felt Harry shiver under the fleeting touches. Draco idly wondered if perhaps he could manage to get a kiss by the end of the night. That was probably pushing it, but maybe instead he could get a lunch date with Harry. He would rather like that. And then maybe after the date it wouldn’t be too much to ask for a kiss in one of the rather darker corners of the opera house after Harry walked him back. He just had to be very clear about what his intentions were without scaring the man off. Mother help him, he was going to need all of her rather obfuscating ways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped out from behind Harry. “There’s a mirror over this way if you want to come look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry followed him to the bank of mirrors that were usually used for fittings, a mirror in front and on either side to give an almost uninterrupted view of an outfit. Draco gestured for him to step into the middle, the usual stand that people were instructed to perch on top of while seamstresses seemed to take pleasure into jabbing pins into them was off to the side. Harry looked at himself in the mirror, turning this way and that, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, if someone were to explain this, it would sound as if it were ridiculous, or at least be something rather feminine, but seeing it on...it’s at once rather beautiful and handsome. There’s something about it that just screams masculine. The artistry that had to go into a piece like this. It’s amazing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco of course was looking anywhere but the actual outfit. He was taking in Harry’s joyous expression, his hands running over the silk of the pants, toying with the golden lace, watching as he turned to look at himself from all angles. It was rather a good thing the other man was focused on himself. He was sure he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, and no one really needed to see that, not yet. He had a reputation to maintain after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is amazing.” He wasn’t sure if he meant the outfit or the man. He wasn’t about to think on it much. “It looks like it was made for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does. You have a good eye for fit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose I have to have something good come out of staring at the male form.” That and decent sex later, but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not the right kind of artist for that excuse.” Harry’s voice was quiet, shy almost, and he was turned as far away as the mirrors would allow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never did say it was a good excuse. Only that it was something good to come from it. I am highly observant, what can I say.” He stepped to Harry’s side, catching his glance in the mirror, cocking an eyebrow and tilting his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just how observant are you?” He held Draco’s gaze now, steady and unflinching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How observant do you want me to be? How observant are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure.” He bit his lip and looked hesitant, like he wanted to say more but was having trouble finding the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you do know, let me know. It’s not like I much leave the opera house anyway.” He stepped back. “Would you like to see any more of the opera house? Perhaps look at anymore outfits? I know a few more that while they most likely wouldn’t fit you, they are still pieces of art.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry cleared his throat. “Why don’t I change back and then you can show me a few more outfits that you like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good.” Draco smiled at him to reassure him. He’d played the long game before with men who weren’t worth half as much time as he thought Harry would be worth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry went and changed back into his own clothes quickly, putting the sun outfit back with gentle hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Draco said when he was done. “I think you’ll like something from a few years ago that has enough crystal on it to sink a ship, but it’s the prettiest gaudiest thing here. I’m really not sure how it didn’t blind people during its run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He showed Harry all of his favorite outfits, feeling the time slip through the world like water down a mountain. It was easy with Harry. So very easy. He listened to every word he said like it was the purest wisdom, laughed at almost all of his jokes, and smiled at the rest. And when Harry’s hands brushed against his on accident over a garment, it felt like sparks were flying between them. He had more than accomplished the goal of keeping him away from Hermione, but now. Well, now it was more a waiting game to see if Harry would ever actually come around. All those little hints, perhaps he wasn’t as in denial as he’d thought at first glance, but neither was he entirely comfortable. He’d been there, a rather long time ago. Maybe ten or eleven. It had been confusing, but being in the opera house had helped. What would it be like going through the same thing as a grown man without supportive parents?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he had to be patient, but honestly patience and Draco Black were not words often heard in the same sentence. Much like his mother, he wanted results now. Well, his mother in the studio. Outside the studio if she was wrapped up in one of her plots with father she could be as patient as she wanted to be. Draco hadn’t inherited that part just yet. Mother said it would come with age, he didn’t think it would. He didn’t much mind, so long as he knew his own strengths and weaknesses what would it really matter? Except now that would very much come in handy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to see the set department now?” Draco asked as he put away the last outfit he’d had in mind to show Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds wonderful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Considering just how tired Draco was getting, he doubted it was actually wonderful, but Harry didn’t want to go anywhere, and who was he to deny that. He didn’t much want to go anywhere either. Even if morning rehearsal was going to be a bear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on then, back up stairs.” He grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him towards the stairs again, leading them up to the main floor once more and then further into the wings of the place. The set design area was broken into a great many little stations, but the main construction area, where everything would come together was the most impressive so he headed there. “Aunt Andromeda has some rather interesting designs. Sometimes people request to come back stage just to see how some of the mechanisms work. She doesn’t much show them until she’s come up with something better, though. How else would the Opera Populaire remain the top of the  class without superior set design.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you related to everyone in this opera house?” Harry teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually only related to Mother by blood. Aunt Andromeda and Bella are just close friends of my mother’s. They’d look after me when mother was too busy with dance rehearsals and father was in one of his writing binges. It’s a bit hard to watch a five year old when you can’t take your head out of the piano.” He shrugged. He’d long since learned to let Father be during those times. He was a lovely and attentive Father otherwise, so he wasn’t much bitter, though his seven year old self would beg to differ. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that sounds nice actually, to have a lot of aunts and uncles, even if they aren’t related to you.” He sounded wistful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have a big family?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, just my parents, my older brother, and me.” His voice turned decidedly bitter at the mention of his older brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a fan of your brother?” He’d never heard anyone speak fondly of their siblings. Quite frankly sometimes he was relieved he didn’t have any. It wasn’t like he minded having all the attention on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No he’s...to put it mildly he’s not a good man. He was supposed to be the one taking on the Vicomte title, I think it says something that I’m the one here before you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco didn’t want to push, but he was curious. Just what in the world had the man done to have the title stripped from him. Or perhaps just never awarded in the first place. Whichever, it was a juicy piece of gossip, and growing up within these walls had left him rather with a taste for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it doesn’t say anything good. I don’t think titles get passed on lightly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. They don’t. And this isn’t something I really wanted, growing up thinking it wasn’t going to be my responsibility, and then suddenly at sixteen it was, well. It was shocking to say the least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you going to do instead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to go to university, for what I hadn’t quite picked yet, but.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to be in the city and learn and then have a quiet career for myself. I didn’t want to float around in the gentry. Everything is fragile and fake among the upper crust. Yet here I am, attending galas and becoming a patron and everything else.” He looked at Draco. “Not that I regret becoming a patron, but.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drao nodded. “I understand. Living a life you haven’t chosen must be hard.” He squeezed Harry’s hand. “And if you ever want to talk more about it, I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Harry’s smile was a little wan but still genuine, “so you said earlier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They emerged into the huge workspace and Draco pulled them to some of the sets from their previous show. They’d just done Aida, the sweeping Egyptian sets huge and monolithic. They’d been some of the best work he’d seen the set department put out. He supposed that’s what they got for actually doing a new opera and allowing the set department to actually have something new to design instead of the same tired old classics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, this is huge. How do they even roll these things out onto stage?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco snorted. “That’s part of Aunt Andy’s own magic. Also part of the mechanisms that she never gives away. I’m not really sure how they work, but they glide over the floor like they’re made of little more than air. Also, considering everything they’re actually made out of, they’re a lot lighter than they look. It’s not like they put up real stone or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still. All that plaster and wood and paint can’t weigh nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smirked at Harry. “I wouldn’t know. I’m conveniently never around when they need extra help lifting something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how do you manage to pull off such conveniently timed disappearing acts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s an old building. There are secret passages everywhere. In fact there are about three within twenty feet of us. Two of them I wouldn’t want to use unless it was an emergency, they’re little used and therefore disgusting, but the third, while a little farther away than the other two, it sees some use. Less chance of a spider in the hair.” He swept his hand over his hair, still in its slicked back position from the show earlier and shivered. Spiders had to be god’s way of laughing at them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we couldn’t have that, now could we. It is rather nice hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco blushed again, but it was dark in the halls up here. The party had ended long ago, he didn’t even hear the slightest of rumblings from further up in the wings. No doubt everyone sane had gone home for the evening, but here they still were roaming around like it was midday. And he wasn’t about to change that at any rate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do my best. It’s rather hard to keep clean when my job requires that it gets soaked with sweat on a daily basis.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’d look lovely soaked in sweat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Draco couldn’t quite resist. “Would you like to see it personally?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry met his eye. “I wouldn’t mind it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well then. “Well, as patron you can come backstage as much as you like. After the show, or in the mornings right before lunch I get done with rehearsal. When mother is the one running the show, if I don’t leave the studio dripping she rather thinks I haven’t worked hard enough, even in the middle of winter when this entire building is freezing all the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I might have to see that. You look so remarkably put together even without a shirt on. I can’t imagine you actually disheveled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sniffed haughtily. “Well of course. Fine breeding, don’t you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry snorted out a laugh. “But of course, my lord.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, now, we’ve talked about this. You may use my given name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes of course, by your leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both were grinning from ear to ear as they walked forward towards a few of the remaining pieces of set work from the season before that hadn’t yet been cannibalized for something yet this season. It was a waste not want not world here in set design, especially for the biggest pieces. It wasn’t as if they really had the room to store many of the larger ones anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that one from?” Harry asked, finally turning away from Draco and their little grin fest. He pointed at perhaps the piece of scenery Draco had hated the most since he started in the main corps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, that one.” He groaned. “I hated that piece more than any other. It sat right in the middle of the stage. It was supposed to be a shipwreck or something, but really all it was, was a wreck. They didn’t think about what the choreography would be when they designed that piece of hell furniture. Trying to dance around it was a nightmare. In fact, any time when they try to get creative and put something right in the middle of the stage it’s always a pain, but usually they aren’t so big as that one because oh ‘it’s supposed to show the dividedness of the characters or some such artistic bullshit. All I know is it took me a solid week to stop smacking my foot against it while doing turns because when you’re used to having the whole stage to navigate, it’s a little hard to readjust, and then also I was trying not to hit Blaise on top of that because we were all crowded together because </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was in the middle of the stage and I think every single dancer had a go at the set department because we all hated it, but they refused to make it smaller and honestly I think right now they’re planning on doing another piece for the middle of the stage just to spite us. I can’t say that it won’t be burned down in an unfortunate accident if they do. They haven’t been out on stage in their lives, they don’t know what it’s like. The opera here doesn’t exactly have the biggest of stages anyway and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco was cut off from saying more as he felt lips pressing into his. Harry was kissing him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Harry</span>
  </em>
  <span> was </span>
  <em>
    <span>kissing </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. Oh lord. His eyes slammed shut and in an instant he was kissing back threading his hands into wild hair. Hell, the man could </span>
  <em>
    <span>kiss</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He felt absolutely swept up in the sensation and how in the world did someone who was most assuredly mostly in the closet kiss like this? And if he stopped anytime soon Draco was calling the police because it would most certainly be a crime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they drew apart a minute later, breathless Harry looked at him with wide eyes. “I, uh, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, I just, you were talking and I didn’t know how to stop you and--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He held up a hand to silence Harry, the biggest smile of the night on his face. “No, you absolutely should’ve. In fact I’d rather been imagining doing that myself since you introduced yourself this morning. I just wasn’t sure if you’d react well.” He shrugged. “Good to know you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s really ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco pulled him forward and kissed him again. Well. If the stupid boat set got him kissed like this, perhaps he didn’t hate it after all. Or at least didn’t hate it as much. The thing was still a nightmare to dance around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They separated again. “It’s very much ok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked relieved. “Good. I’m glad. I just. I didn’t know that--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There were other people like you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stick around here long enough, Vicomte. It will become quite obvious that there are a lot more of us than any of the straight laced upper crust would like to think there are. In fact, I know there are some secret clubs around Paris just for some of those same uptight assholes to be able to actually go be themselves. Little did they know all they really had to be was an artist. It’s not a complete get out of jail free card, but.” He shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing I became a patron then, isn’t it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it most certainly is.” And then a huge yawn escaped him. Wonderful. That was not the look he was going for right now. Damn body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And on that note, I suppose it is quite late, though it only feels like a few seconds has passed with you. I should let you sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco kept a grip on his hand as he tried to step away. “Lunch tomorrow? I’ll have a little while to spare while they clean up from the party and set up for the afternoon run through.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you tried the cafe across the square? I haven’t yet, but if it’s decent we could eat there just in case you need to run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco smiled and squeezed his hand. “It’s a decent cafe, nothing to write home about, but the food is good enough. The coffee is better, though. It’s perfect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this time Draco let his hand go. “See you tomorrow.” He blew the other man a kiss impulsively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry mimed catching it with a grin before fully turning and striding out of the opera house. Well. This night had not gone at all like he thought it would. But for once, that didn’t seem to be a bad thing. And it had rather distracted him from </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span> his parents were doing to Hermione, thank god. He shivered in disgust and walked off towards his bed. No, not going to think about that, he was only going to think about tomorrow and lunch and things that wouldn’t scar him for life.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Seat of Sweet Music’s Throne</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Consistent chapter lengths? I don't know her. BUT. Hey 44k in and finally there isn't a wall between them!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“No, no!” Narcissa shooed the last dregs of the party goers away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione was relieved. She’d talked to so many of them already. Even with Narcissa at her side it had been like walking a tightrope. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say or do at any one moment, she had just been acting on instinct mostly. The people out there definitely weren’t denizens of the opera house. They expected to be treated a certain way, and honestly it had been a rather long time since Hermione had interacted with the upper class. The last time she’d been a little girl with her father and any slip ups had been adorable. Now, on her first time out as lead soprano, it felt like the stakes were much higher. Narcissa had helped of course and kept her steady and had led her when she wasn’t sure where to do in a conversation, but now she was just very glad it was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the room finally closed and Narcissa turned to her with a soft smile. “You very did well, darling.” Her eyes lit up as they landed on something behind Hermione. “He is pleased with you.” She walked forward and picked up half a dozen deep red roses tied together with a black ribbon. She handed them to Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took them and lifted them to her nose. Fresh roses in the middle of winter, and this many of them must have cost a pretty penny. Though with twenty thousand francs a month Lucius did have the money to spend. Still. She inhaled deeply and smiled. The thought was overwhelmingly kind. She would have to press these roses in a book to make sure she could keep them for a long time to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re lovely,” she said after a moment, looking at the other woman, meeting her eyes. They were sparkling with a look Hermione couldn’t place, but it warmed her all over nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are. I’m never quite sure where he gets them from. He still hasn’t told me after all these years.” Her smile was fond. She took a step closer to Hermione, reaching out to lay her hand over Hermione’s. “Would you like to meet him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione gasped and nodded so quickly that it twinged a muscle in her neck. She winced and rubbed at the pulled muscle while still nodding, uncaring of the hurt it caused. “Yes, yes of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa squeezed Hermione’s hand left holding the flowers. She grasped the flowers gently and set them off to the side. “I thought as much. You are as caught in his web as I.” Her eyes hardened. “But know this, you hurt him, and I don’t care if you are the new rising star of this opera, I will have you out on the street in an instant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t dream of hurting him.” She looked down at the floor considering her next words. “I know there’s a reason he hides behind the walls. Why else would he? He’s a genius, he’s loyal, protective, hardworking, but most of all he’s kind. I know there’s a reason society wouldn’t accept him even though he’s a wonderful person, but I don’t care.” She found Narcissa’s gaze again, standing up straight, bringing the hand that had been rubbing at her neck down to clasp Narcissa’s hand between both of her. “I could give a damn what society thinks. I know him. There’s nothing that could frighten me off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa looked over her carefully. “I believe that you’re convinced of that now, but forgive me if I don’t truly believe until I’ve seen proof. If you were just his muse it would be different, but you are more. The more you are, the more possibility to hurt him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s heart leapt at that. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione...you are...romantically interested in Lucius, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stared at the other woman, amazed that she had been so straightforward in her wording. How far past vitally important did something have to be for Narcissa to actually be straightforward instead of trying to obfuscate? She swallowed hard. There, of course, was only one answer, but still now it felt as if it required a certain sense of gravity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I am. I know that you both are married and I know--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa cut her off, “Perhaps you ought to stop while you’re ahead. I have a feeling I know what you’re about to say, and it might not be relevant. There are more factors at play here than would normally be were Lucius and I a normal couple.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione decided to wait for Narcissa to explain that rather than jumping in with a question, though she had several. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you, that is to say, if I.” Narcissa scowled and looked away. “Draco has told me that it’s not just Lucius you might be interested in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh she was going to kill that boy the next time she saw him. First he butted in where she certainly didn’t want him, now here he was spilling all her secrets to the people the secrets were about in the first place? The absolute second that she could get her revenge on him she would. Maybe a pie hidden in his bed for him to sit on would be good. Or perhaps making him look like an idiot in front of whoever his next crush was. Something like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your son is a blabbermouth.” She sighed. “But he’s not wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa laughed quietly. “Only to the right people, otherwise I find he’s rather like a vault. As his mother I’m most assuredly a right person. I think now that you know about Lucius there isn’t much he keeps from you either.” She brought Hermione’s hands to her mouth and laid a kiss on the delicate skin there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione shuddered, wondering if this meant what she thought it meant. It couldn’t. It was just a pipe dream. She’d been telling herself that for so long she didn’t know what she would do if it suddenly wasn’t true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then. If he isn’t wrong, that is good news. I suppose the last question is if you’re interested in both of us, does that extend to an arrangement where you would be with us both at the same time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You would want that?” Hermione blinked, not quite able to believe what she was hearing. It made sense, it did. They were married after all, but. Still. It was almost unbelievable. After literal years of pushing down all these feelings, all the day dreams where things had worked out perfectly and they had all lived together happily, she had to pinch herself to make sure it was real, that it wasn’t a dream and that she really was hearing everything correctly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. We do. We discussed it earlier.” Narcissa stepped even closer. “But just because I have affections towards you doesn’t mean that if you hurt him that I won’t follow through on my threats.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione swallowed around a lump that was suddenly in her throat. Her knees were weak and the pit of her stomach tingled. Well. This was new. Scared and just a little turned on. How odd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hurting him is the last thing I want to do, I swear. Really, I don’t. Even if I wasn’t in love with him I wouldn’t. He’s still a person, a wonderful one at that. No one should be made to feel bad because of who they are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa dropped Hermione’s hands and reached up to cup her face. “I sincerely hope your word is true. I truly do. I want this to work out. He trusts so few. He deserves the world. And I would like this personally to work out as well. You are a magnificent woman, Hermione.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me? What about you? Have you seen yourself?” She felt herself blush. She hadn’t quite meant to say that out loud, but here they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s chuckle sent tingles through Hermione. “Well, I have, but I don’t think I quite see myself through your eyes. Nor Lucius’s for that matter.” She finally stepped back and let her hands drop to her sides. “But he’ll be here soon. I’m sure you’ll see his lovestruck expression.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a passageway that leads to this room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is.” Narcissa walked to the mirror at the back of the room. She twisted one of the candelabras next to it and there was a clicking sound. She set her hand on the mirror and slide it aside to reveal a passageway, lit with a hundred candles. She shook her head. “How he does so much work in a short amount of time I’ll never know.” She slide the mirror back almost into place and turned back to Hermione. “We haven’t used this tunnel in a long while. He’s not fond of Lavender, much like everyone else in the opera house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who can really blame him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, exactly. Our new managers seem to want to keep her happy enough, though.” She rolled her eyes. “And yet how did that work out for them. Let’s hope our new patron might sober them up to the reality that the woman is a disaster, especially since he seems to be a childhood friend of yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s eyes widened. “He remembered me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In the box tonight, watching your performance. It took him most of the time to place you. Isn’t the brightest man, is he?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Hermione said. “He’s still my friend. And we haven’t seen each other since we were seven.” But then she stopped and shook her head, remembering all the times they used to play together and some of the questions that he asked. “But well, no, sometimes he isn’t. Still though. Friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I won’t heckle him too mercilessly then.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Lucius and I won’t have to worry about this old acquaintance of yours, will we? Granted I have Draco distracting him right now, so tonight is moot, but I don’t much like anyone trying to go after what I consider mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s stomach filled up with butterflies at the word mine. Compared to that Harry meant nothing. She had known him as a child. She doubted that he was too much different from the sweet boy she’d known, but she hardly would know him now besides that he was a good man. But she knew Lucius and Narcissa inside and out at this point. And if they truly both wanted her together, well, that would be it for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. You don’t need to worry. I mean I’d like to talk to him and be friends with him again, but romantically. No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” She huffed out a breath. “The boy acted like he’d never been to a concert before. He wanted to rush off in the middle of it and sweep off. To do what I’m uncertain. Some ridiculous romantic gesture perhaps? Not that it would be useful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mirror slid open to reveal a man, a mask covering the left half of his face, long white blond hair falling around his shoulder, dressed in dark finery all covered with a sweeping cape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god.” Hermione was absolutely stunned by just how beautiful the man in front of her was. That was Lucius, of course it was, who else would come from behind the mirror. Draco was a dead ringer for the man, the half of his face that she could see had the same chin and eyes, though Draco definitely had Narcissa’s nose and more golden hair. “He’s gorgeous,” she said under her breath, but Narcissa had clearly heard her, looking at her with a pleased smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory.” He whipped his cape angrily. “Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in our triumph.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa walked over to him. “Now, darling, he’s not much sharing in it anymore. We’re the ones here in the room. And besides, Draco is off distracting him.” She gave him a significant look that Hermione couldn’t quite understand, but she didn’t spend too much time trying to figure that out. There were other things to think about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked towards Lucius slowly. He was really here in front of her. She almost couldn’t believe it. Between him and Narcissa and everything, she felt as if she had had too much to drink. Her head was swimming and everything almost had a dreamy quality to it. Yet she was certain it was all real and that she had complete control of herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, certainly a man and not an angel then,” she said, voice teasing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did tell him not to do that,” Narcissa said, “I was there that night when he heard you sing for the first time. He told me his plan and I told him it wouldn’t work, and then it didn’t.” She bumped against him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Regardless of his angelic status, he certainly did grant to me his glory. And I still have much to learn. So much more I want to learn. Sitting in the chapel earlier I heard a refrain to a song I’m sure I’ve never heard before. You’ve taught me a great deal about music, but I think I might also want to know more about who to write and arrange it as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And finally Lucius managed to speak again. He had almost been in a trance, looking at Hermione with wide eyes. “I can, I can do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful.” Hermione smiled up at him, taking another few steps closer. Now that he was here in front of her, all she really wanted was to be as close as possible, but that was probably pushing it for this first meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was the refrain you heard earlier?” Lucius was starting to truly come to life now, that exciting spark she’d always imagined in his eyes when he talked about music was there and Hermione’s smile widened. Everything just felt so right in this moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco came to find me in the chapel where we first met. I told him about the promise my father made to me, to send an angel of music after he died. And I just.” She stopped and cleared her throat and sang the verse from earlier changing a few words, seeing if they sounded better than her original. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Angel of Music!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Guide and guardian!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grant to me your</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>glory!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Angel of Music!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hide no longer!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come to me, strange</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>angel”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it seems I am your angel of music after all.” He smiled. “That is an interesting place to start from. Perhaps when we are down in our rooms we can play around with the tune on the piano and find something that fits, maybe workshop some more lyrics to flesh it out.” He was practically bouncing on his toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And do you have plans at all for anything else tonight, darlings?” Narcissa drawled. They both looked at Narcissa a bit sheepishly. She waved them off with a fond gesture. “No, no, I figured this was much of what would happen when the two of you actually got into a room together. I find it cute. Though one should rather remember to pay attention to the third in the triad every once in a while, no?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Hermione said at the same time that Lucius said, “Always, dear heart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful, now come on, I have a bottle of champagne chilling for us downstairs to celebrate your first performance." She walked towards the mirror and both Lucius and Hermione were hot on her heels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually, speaking of workshopping pieces,” Lucius said as they made their way down the candlelit passage. “I finished the male part to the song I had you test for me a few days ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Phantom of the Opera one?” Hermione asked. It was another of the songs Lucius was trying out for his opera for Narcissa. This one didn’t quite feel like it really fit for what he was going for, but it was still a beautiful song.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! I’d love to try it out first before workshopping your piece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa turned to smile back at them before she started to sing. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione stared at the other woman. She had a truly lovely voice. It made her wonder why the other woman had ended up a dancer instead of a singer. She looked over at Lucius who had a purely lovestruck look on his face and she felt her heart stop for a moment or two before resuming. How had she gotten so lucky to have both of them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She joined in with Narcissa after the first line. Their voices blended together nicely and a shiver of pleasure made its way up Hermione’s spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That voice which calls to me and speaks my name</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And do I dream again? For now I find</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Phantom of the Opera is there</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Inside my mind”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The joy on Lucius’s face was contagious. Hermione felt herself smiling even though it was hell to keep the right pitch and tone through a smile. She didn’t care. For the first time in a long, long time she felt as weightless as a child, walking down a passageway that while well lit was still a bit damp and musty. It was all still perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius and Narcissa looked at each other before they both started to sing together.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sing once again with us our strange duet</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Our power over you grows stronger yet”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa smirked at Hermione, raising a challenging eyebrow as if to say “is it wrong?” Which, no, it wasn’t really. Over two years and she just kept getting more and more involved with the two of them as the passageway opened up more and they left the walls of candelabras behind for a spiraling stairwell. Lucius grabbed up a torch to help light there way, but it wasn’t nearly as dark as Hermione would’ve thought. There was light coming from other torches set along the wall at distant intervals and the stone seemed to reflect a good amount of the light, casting a glow about the place that made it feel more magical than foreboding.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And though you turn from me to glance behind</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Phantom of the Opera is there</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Inside your mind”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The stairs led them to a larger tunnel, with wider, sweeping steps down. How in the world was something like this under the operahouse and no one but Lucius and Narcissa seemed to know about it? She looked around, taking it all in. She would love to explore all of these tunnels, to know where they all went. Just what in the world could she find down here with Lucius? He must know every nook and cranny after all these years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa switched back to singing with Hermione. Dropping back now that the tunnel was wider to walk with her, hand finding hers and twining together easily. She revealed in the soft warmth of her touch. She tugged them forward to match Lucius’s stride and Hermione reached out to take his hand. It was rougher, a few more calluses, she wondered if they were from playing or from other pursuits. He looked over at the both of them, surprised etched in every line of his face. Hermione just smiled at him and kept a hold of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Those who have seen your face</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Draw back in fear</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am the mask you wear”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Narcissa looped to be on Lucius’s other side, looping her arm around the one he held the torch in and he looked as if he were perhaps a little overwhelmed by all that was happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s me they hear”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And it really was beautiful to hear both Lucius and Narcissa sing together. If there was a moment she wanted to melt into so wholly it consumed her, it might just be this one. She had waited to get what she wanted before, but nothing was quite as satisfying as tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then they were all singing together, Narcissa and Hermione together again and Lucius forging his own path. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Your spirit and my voice</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In one combined</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Phantom of the Opera is there</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Inside my mind”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The tunnels gave way to a water filled corridor, a boat waiting for them as candles flickered reflecting off the water, strange sculptures thrown into stranger relief in the ever changing firelight. It felt like a shrine to old gods that had been lost to time. She gasped, unable to help herself and Lucius smiled at her before helping her gently into the boat. She crawled to the front and sat down as Narcissa more gracefully walked to the seat behind her and arranged herself primly. Hermione wondered just how often she’d taken this boat ride in order to look so at home on a very wobbly boat. Lucius stepped in and pushed them off with a long pole and they glided out into the channel.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“In all your fantasies, you always knew</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That man and mystery”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>In this open cavern Lucius’s voice bounced off of the stone, coming back to them quickly, making it sound as if Lucius was more than just one man singing, but a hundred.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Were both in you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa turned around, reaching up to cup Lucius’s face tenderly and Hermione melted. God, they were so in love. She only hoped that she could fit well with them, that they would all have that some day. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And in this labyrinth, where night is blind</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Phantom of the Opera is there</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Inside my mind.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione swallowed. She knew what was coming next and she had gotten through it alright in practice, but now, sitting on a boat, with her heart beating hard in her chest and her brain half scattered over thoughts of love she wasn’t sure she could do it. But Lucius was looking at her with loving, if almost unbelieving eyes and she knew she had to do her best.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sing my angel of music!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione started singing the wordless melodies. This wasn’t the hard part really, they were all well within her range and comfortable. She looked at Narcissa, and she looked back with a smile, comfortable to let Hermione sing this alone. She scrunched her nose at the woman. It would have been a little less nerve wracking if she wasn’t the only one singing, but Narcissa wasn’t the one trying to become lead soprano, was she? She didn’t have anything to prove and could stop singing whenever she wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sing for me”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She went up a few notes and started the pattern again, watching as the scenery around them shifted. Someone long ago had put time and effort into these tunnels, truly. She almost wanted to reach out and touch them, but decided against it. They’d probably be a bit slimy anyway. Not the best thing for later if she wanted to hold Narcissa or Lucius’s hand again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sing my angel of music”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Again another few notes higher and now she could feel it a bit, the strain to keep everything in tune. A year ago she wouldn’t have been able to, but now while she could feel the difficulty, it wasn’t mind bendingly difficult. No that would be in a few seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tunnel opened up and the strange statues dropped away. Now there it looked more like a natural cave, but there was a portcullis over a large archway. It started to rise as they got closer and then a curtain pulled back and Hermione could see hundreds of candles and candelabras, some even rising from the water themselves as they approached. It was like something out of a novel, she could hardly believe it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sing for me!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione hit the last note without even thinking about it, perfectly on pitch, holding it just for the right length of time, still looking around her in awe. The boat came to a stop and Lucius hopped out easily, stowing the long pole and sweeping his arm out at the rooms Hermione could now see, a smile on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have brought you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To the seat of sweet music's throne</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To this kingdom where all must pay homage to music</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Music...</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You have come here</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For one purpose and one alone</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Since the moment I first heard you sing</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I have needed you with me to sing</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For my music</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My music…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa snorted behind Hermione as he finished singing. “I rather hope for more than one purpose, darling. Singing is wonderful and all, and I rather enjoyed singing with the both of you, but music and music alone a relationship does not make.” She stood, gripping Hermione’s shoulder gently as she walked around her to hop out onto dry land. Lucius caught her before she could put too much weight on her bad knee. “Come, Hermione, we did promise you champagne.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius looked a bit sheepish. “Well, yes, of course it won’t just be singing. There will be talking too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I sure hope so.” There was a wry twist to Narcissa’s lips as she stood on tip toe to kiss his cheek before sweeping off elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius held out his hand. “I suppose we had better follow her, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione took it and almost fell out of the boat rather than gracefully dismounting. For all she was a dancer, sometimes she had the grace of a bull elephant. Lucius swooped in and steadied her just like he had Narcissa. She lingered in his arms for a second longer than polite, but he was warm and solid and real and she didn’t truly want to pull out of his grasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I found that in class doing things her way with expediency definitely gets you yelled at less.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, yes, you’re not wrong. She really is fearsome when she gets worked up.” He tugged her up a small ramp and towards one of the openings in the wall. “And we certainly don’t want that on a night like tonight. You truly did well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione felt herself blushing from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. “You really think so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I rather know so. Granted I would’ve prefered to watch you from my regular box, but the view from the rafters has its charms too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa appeared with glasses of champagne for all of them. “He means that he could see down your bodice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know it’s too far away for that!” Lucius interjected, suddenly sounding more like a teenaged boy than she’d ever heard him before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione couldn’t help but giggle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh right, that’s from the flys, excuse me. It’s not like you never lurk there or anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius’s mouth flapped openly but no words seemed to be forthcoming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa smirked and held up a glass. “To Hermione then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione shyly clinked her glass against Lucius’s and Narcissa’s. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with praise. It had been fairly easy accepting the praise of strangers, but these were two people that actually mattered. Their praise meant so much more and she was a little overwhelmed by it. She took a look drink and then pulled back, looking at the glass in surprise. It wasn’t the almost bottom of the barrel swill they served at galas, no this tasted expensive. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A special occasion, a special bottle.” Narcissa smiled and looped her arm through Hermione’s. “Now, are you hungry? I imagine you didn’t much eat before you went on stage. I know I was much too nervous to do so before my first solo performance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked back over her shoulder to Lucius who just shrugged. Apparently this wasn’t something new to him, but this warm and almost gushing Narcissa was certainly new to her. Her demeanor in class had shifted the longer she had been in the main corps, but it had always had some reservation to the subtle warmth there. Now there was nothing subtle about it. Was this what she was like when she truly allowed herself to feel everything? If so, Hermione wanted more and more of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I think Draco might have gotten me to eat a little bread and cheese so I didn’t faint on stage, but that was about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, we’ll have to fix that.” She went to rooting through the cabinets that lined the room, humming quietly to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A warm presence made itself known at her back and Hermione saw no reason not to lean back into it. There was a surprised gasp, almost silent, but Hermione heard it. She wondered for a second if she had pushed too far, but then Lucius wrapped an arm around her and held her to him. It had to be a surprise after all these years down here with only Narcissa and Draco, to have someone else touching him, but it seemed he was more than willing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is she always like this at home?” Hermione asked quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not always, she’s excited too. I think we’ve both rather wanted this for longer than either of us has put words to. She gets excited and then she’s giddy, with the right audience. I myself have always found that excitement brings nervousness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not wrong,” Narcissa said, pulling out a bowl of apples with a triumphant noise. “When he asked me to marry him and I said yes, I swear he almost fainted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius made a displeased sound in his throat, but didn’t deny the claim.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s adorable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa looked over her shoulder at Hermione, a twinkle in her eye. “I know, right? Oh, the stories I could tell you about this one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can counter those stories with ones of my own, you realize,” Lucius said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, mutually assured destruction, is it?” She looked Lucius up and down. “You know, I think I’ll take my chances when the time is right.” She turned back to rummaging through the cabinets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it will be all that destructive. I think it will just be cute.” Hermione wanted to hear everything, every embarrassing story, every fact, every hope and dream, all the music that Lucius had written, everything. Though it could all be in time. She didn’t have to hear it all now. They had a long time, at least she hoped they did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I rather think it’s unfair that you both must know all sorts of stories about me doing idiotic, childish things from being Draco’s friend, yet I know nothing like that about either of you.” She tilted her head back enough to look up at Lucius and cocked an eyebrow. “One story wouldn’t hurt the two of you over much, would it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s already too persuasive, what are we going to do with her?” Lucius was teasing but Hermione wondered if there was just a grain of fear in the words as well. Oh, she could see why Narcissa was so protective of him. He didn’t have a quite literal wall to hide behind now, and while he was here, still imposing, still sure in some ways, in others, she could feel him teetering on the edge of uncertainty. She took the hand that rested on her stomach and squeezed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean there are a great many things you could do, but I think telling me a story is the easiest way out of this mess. What’s your favorite about Narcissa?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Favorite embarrassing story? Or just favorite story, those are two different things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And something about his tone told Hermione which one she should pick. “Favorite embarrassing story.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa groaned loudly. “I know what’s coming. Lord above save me, I hate this story with a passion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius laughed, the sound vibrating through Hermione in the most comforting of ways. “It’s not that bad, really, it really is more adorable than anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes whatever you say.” Narcissa pulled out what looked to be a box from the patisserie across the street. “Just for this she’s getting your strawberry tart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll just buy me another one next week.” Though he did sound a little put out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll split it with you, don’t worry,” Hermione said, whispering so Narcissa didn’t hear her plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An amiable compromise,” he whispered back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are strawberry tarts your favorite?” Hermione asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are,” Narcissa said, sweeping back to the table with three chairs around it. She frowned a the number of chairs, realizing something. “We’re going to have to get another chair for when Draco comes to dinner.” But then she shrugged and set down the bounty she had gathered, bread, and cheese, apples, some sort of dark fruit jam, blackberry maybe, and the patisserie box. “Come, sit, we might as well be sitting while Lucius subjects me to reliving perhaps the most embarrassing thing I did has a child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sighed at having to leave Lucius’s arms, but went to sit beside Narcissa. The other woman handed her a plate, already laden with some of everything that she had set out. She took it gratefully and started to eat as Lucius sat down across from them, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Certainly better to get the embarrassing things out of the way in childhood. It’s expected,” Lucius teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Just tell her already, stop dragging it out.” Her cheeks were already a bright red and Hermione wondered just what it was that could embarrass her now even years later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe we were no more than about fourteen. Narcissa had just made it into the advanced class, and she was so happy.” His smile was still proud even though clearly Narcissa had gone on to do bigger and better things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made it in front of that cow Lucia Zabini, that was all that mattered to me at the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah a friend I take it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa arched a brow. “Much in the same way that you and Pansy are friends, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione hummed her understanding. “Definitely a cow then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway,” Lucius continued, “she was excited to tell me and after she went to drop off her things at her bed, she rushed down the stairs, but a few stairs from the bottom, ended up tripping on the back staircase.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s eyes widened. Obviously the woman was ok now, but falling down stairs as a dancer was always a nightmare she had. One wrong move and she would be out a career. But also, that staircase led directly into the prop workshop, and there were always things lying around in various states of doneness. To trip and fall in the props workshop was asking for you to run into something and break it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She wasn’t hurt, just a bit bruised, but in the process of falling,” he had to suppress a laugh. “In the process of falling, they were making a larger than life model of a head for some costume or another. I don’t remember what opera it was for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione started to giggle, anticipating at least some of what was going to happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll eat the tart myself,” Narcissa grumbled, “don’t think I won’t.” But there was a small smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She ended up falling head first into that model, falling about halfway inside, and then because of the awkward position she was stuck in, she couldn’t get out. The stagehands who had made the prop didn’t want to damage the head anymore either, so Narcissa was there, stuck, for a good hour, screaming at them to let her out, legs wiggling in fury. She ended up being able to push herself up to standing and tried to chase them around to convince them to just cut the thing off her already, but she ended up running right into a wall and falling right back over again.” He stopped to laugh again. “I ended up seeing all of it because I was in the flys, waiting for Narcissa to be done so we could spend time together afterwards. It was the funniest thing I think I saw for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now he won’t let me live it down.” She scrunched her nose at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione laughed so hard at the image of a young Narcissa running around with a bust of a head over half her body, the skin visible red with rage, running around like some sort of unholy terror out of a nightmare until she ran right into the way like some sort of funny illustration. She had to wipe tears from her eyes. It was just too good of an image. Even she hadn’t managed to do anything quite that crazy in all her time at the opera house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa slid the pastry box towards her. “All mine now, I’ve decided. It’s my payment for the suffering you’ve brought up once more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione didn’t much mind the loss of the tart, but she had promised to share with Lucius. She gave Narcissa the best puppy dog eyes she could and Narcissa’s hand stopped, wavering for a second before sliding it back towards Hermione. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, but don’t think I’ll fall for that look often.” She huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about Lucius then, as your retaliation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An evil glint came into Narcissa’s eye. “Now that, I can do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius swallowed audibly. “What story are you telling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the first time you tried to become the Phantom ought to do it, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius groaned and put his head down on the table. “I suppose it’s only fair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.” She turned back to Hermione with a smirk on her face. “Now, stories about there being a Phantom in this opera house have been around long before Lucius ever was. There were stories that were told when I was no older than you when you first came here, even, and they had the air of tales recited by generations of performers before. We didn’t get the idea from nowhere, of course, half the reason it worked was because of the rumors already haunting the opera house. Anything bad that ever happened was blamed on the phantom. It was truly rife for exploitation. But.” She paused and looked at Lucius with an amused expression. “The first time we thought to do something about it was, perhaps, was a bit too early. We were...fifteen I think, and Lucius was a late bloomer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She licked her lips, looking at him up and down. Hermione joined her. Late bloomer or not Lucius had definitely filled out nicely. She idly wondered just how he looked under all the black finery. He had felt muscled and solid behind her. All the running around the opera, surely he was fairly toned. She bit the inside of her lip to distract herself. This for all intents and purposes was a first date. She needed to calm down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Probably, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we got it into our heads that it was a fine idea. And I followed Lucius into one of the passages that goes right by the owner’s office. We ended up there and he starts setting the scene, ominous noises, blowing out candles through the cracks in the walls, the whole bit. Then he goes to speak, trying to be deep and menacing. And his voice cracks two words in and stays like that for the rest of the time we’re in the tunnel. Needless to say, the owner was rolling, I was valiantly trying not to laugh, but mostly failing, and the owner at the time thought it was some practical joke. I got a friend to play along with it later and the owner thought he was the funniest boy and took him out to dinner to have him tell the story to his friends. We had to wait until he sold the place to try again. Thankfully by that time we were almost eighteen and the same didn’t happen again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Hermione’s sides hurt from laughing. She could imagine Lucius in that situation too. Mostly because she had bore witness to Draco during the same stage of life, though puberty had hit him sooner than fifteen. Poor boy, all raging hormones and angst. Oh, and Lucius had probably been trying to impress Narcissa too, god know Draco had tried to impress every pretty man at the same age. Oh, it was too cute an image.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m glad it worked out eventually.” She smiled at Lucius, wiping another few tears from her eyes, the laughter finally dying down. “If there was no Phantom I’m sure there would be no Hermione Granger, lead soprano.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure that given time you still would have found your way to the front of the stage. People would have to be fools not to see how talented you are.” Lucius’s eyes were soft and he reached out a hand towards Hermione. Hermione took it without hesitation and squeezed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it would’ve been harder. I didn’t sing in front of many people before all of this.” She shrugged, blushing a little. She had thought that she had a decent enough voice, something for bar halls and singing children to sleep, not something remarkable. That had taken Lucius stepping in to show her just how amazing she could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now you just sang in front of a sold out opera house. My how times do change.” Narcissa’s smile was warm, as warm as Lucius’s hand. As long as she had known the two of them, while this was a first date, it already felt like so much more, warm, and comfortable, and lived in, like a perfect sweater. How would it feel when they really put in time together?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione didn’t know what to say to that other than blush and duck her head towards the table. She shoved a rather large bite of bread into her mouth to keep from having to speak for a bit longer, but she immediately regretted that choice once Narcissa spoke again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m rather sure we haven’t heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of your embarrassing stories.” She sat forward. “Draco hasn’t been around for every single second of your life here. That, and he doesn’t tell us everything about his day. I’m sure there’s something that must have escaped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never done anything wrong in my life,” Hermione insisted, though she was sure her face more than gave away the lie. She must be almost purple by now she was blushing so hard. Maybe if she just walked out and back down into the water she would cool down a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I certainly don’t think you have,” Lucius said with a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione groaned. With both of them looking at her like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was never going to get out of this conversation without telling them something. When was the last time she had done something embarrassing without Draco around? It had rather been a while, probably since she had joined the main corps. They spent most of their days together now, save when he went off to seek a good drink and when she went off to lessons with Lucius. Then she groaned louder, remembering an incident she had almost forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine, there is something from after Draco moved up to the main corps but I was still in the reserve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s eyes sparkled. “Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. I was getting ready for the day, doing stretches and everything after the last class had cleared out but before my class was due to start.” Her early habits hadn’t started with Narcissa’s class, though she had been arriving earlier and earlier in the past year just so she could spend a bit more time with the other woman. It had seemed the earlier she showed up the earlier Narcissa seemed to show up. She had told herself not to read into it, but apparently she should’ve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t paying attention, though, when I was tying the ribbons of my pointe shoes and I accidentally tangled one end of one shoe’s ribbon with the ribbon of the other shoe. I didn’t notice it, of course, until I went to get up as Madame Hooch came in. I sprang up to ask her a question and well. I never did make it. I took half of one step and then ended up rather on my face. I had a bruised cheek for over a week. I don’t think Madame Hooch knew what to do really. She stood there stunned for a long moment before telling me ‘to walk it off, nothing snapped so it couldn’t be that bad’ and just sort of, turning around pretending to be busy. I think that might have made the whole situation worse, really? I was blushing the whole class. And then I had a bruise that I had to explain to everyone who saw me and it was an absolute mess. Needless to say I’m very careful with my ribbons now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa snorted out a laugh. “I’ve tripped over a thing or two during lessons, but I’ve never managed to do that. I’m impressed, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just glad you were all right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes Lucius, we know you are the better person in this relationship, yes.” Narcissa stuck her tongue out at him. “Yet you laugh easily enough when I tripped on the stairs the other day, and I have a leg injury!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s because when you curse up a storm you’re not truly hurt and we both know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa rolled her eyes. “Fine, you’re not wrong, but.” She huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione giggled and finished off the last of the apple slices Narcissa had put on her plate. She reached for the tart box and then carefully cut the tart into three pieces, handing one to Lucius first, then Narcissa, before popping her own piece in her mouth and chewing. She sighed. Pastry was a rare treat for her and this was heaven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She looks just as rapturous as you eating that tart.” Narcissa’s voice was a bit deeper. Hermione turned to look at the woman and she looked hungry, but definitely not for the piece of tart still in her hand. She turned to Lucius and he looked much the same way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed audibly. “I understand now why you buy me one of these every week if that’s how I look eating it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, I told you. It’s an excellent look on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius slowly put the tart into his mouth, looking at Hermione all the while. As soon as the sweet hit his tongue the spell was broken and he closed his eyes, face morphing into one of absolute delight. Oh, now Hermione definitely understood too. It was hard to see a face like that and not think about more...carnal pleasures and the possible situations she could see that expression in otherwise. She looked at Narcissa, who glanced at her for a second, nodded with knowing eyes, and looked back to Lucius. Hermione followed suit but a few seconds later he swallowed and his face went back to normal, still devastatingly handsome, but if she tried hard enough she could think of other things besides bedroom activities. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took a gulp of champagne to slake her suddenly overwhelming thirst. “Uh, you said something about playing around with the tune to the refrain I came up with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius lit up, sitting up straighter. “I did! Yes, this way!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve lost you two for the night.” Narcissa shook her head good naturedly. “I’ll clean up and join you in a bit. Perhaps with that book I’ve been wanting to finish. Very suited to reading in what amounts to a dungeon, Carmilla.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it was Hermione’s turn to sit up straighter. “Oh, you have a copy? I’ve been wanting to read that since I read the review in the paper. Whatever that editor hates, I always seem to love. He has such boring tastes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa laughed. “Oddly, that is exactly why I picked it up. When I’m done I’ll let you borrow it. I think you’ll enjoy it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, and then we can talk about it as I read.” She practically bounced in her seat. She always wanted to talk about the books she read with someone, but Draco wasn’t much into reading, and a good portion of the opera house couldn’t actually read. But if Narcissa liked to read, maybe this was something they could share together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d like that a great deal.” She waved them off. “Now go, Lucius is practically wagging his tail to get to his piano.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked back to Lucius and she could definitely see what the other woman was talking about. She smiled and stood up and in a second he was at her side, taking her arm and gently escorting her out from the kitchen down a bit of a hall to another room scattered with music sheets and all sorts of instruments. She gasped at the sight of them all, but the clear centerpiece was the piano, dark wood and glossy, it was truly an instrument of a professional. She wondered how in the world they’d managed to get it down here, who in the world they’d paid to do so, but that stopped the second Lucius tugged her down onto the piano bench and set a few blank sheets of paper lined with music staffs before them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have some ideas, if you would like to hear them?” His eyes were bright, but his expression tinged with shyness, unsure of how she would take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius played a melody that was slow, almost ponderous. It was beautiful and she sat and listened for a few moments just to bask in the music he was making before she shook her head. “It’s lovely, but it’s not quite right. It...I don’t think it should be a fast song, but neither is it quite this slow. It’s...almost in awe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius hummed. The tune shifted a bit, picking up the pace just a bit, but the notes had a sort of levity to them. As if they were hanging in the air much after they had faded from hearing. This was a better fit but something still wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t put her finger on it though. Maybe if she sang along with it, she could figure it out. She opened her mouth to start to sing, but Lucius beat her to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“you shall know me,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>see why in shadow</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hide!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Look at your face</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>in the mirror -</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I am there</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Inside!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He frowned, not looking pleased with the lyrics he’d just come up with off the top of his head, but to her they sounded like a decent preface to the verse she had come up with. She continued singing after he stopped and his frown only deepend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something isn’t quite right about this either, but it is closer.” He stilled his fingers on the keys for a moment, thinking. “It echoes a...darker version of you and I meeting, I think. It needs something, smokier, ephemeral...almost as if the senses were clouded by something mind altering, though nothing so powerful as opium.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded along with his assessment, but she did wonder how in the world he was going to manage to convey that in music. The lyrics would help, of course, but--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he started playing and Hermione gasped. It sounded exactly as he said. She looked at him, turning enough to see his whole face in profile. He was beautiful, concentrated as he was. From this angle she couldn’t see his mask. This was the man who would have unabashedly existed in their world and it would have fallen at his feet. She would’ve never met that man, she was sure. He would be off who knew where in the world, a conductor, a musician, a genius, worshipped the world over. As much as she wished whatever pain had caused him to live here in this underground fortress hadn’t happened, she was still thankful to be here, sitting beside him, listening to his music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to he at the end of the song, smiling. “Do you like it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s perfect. How in the world did you make it sound exactly like you said?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged one elegant shoulder. “Much as the words came to you, I listened, and it was there. Learning the basics of what should and shouldn’t go together will help you along the way, but to be truly good, at some point, it’s just instinct.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa swept in with her book and sat in a chair that was so clearly her domain in this room. She must come here to watch Lucius practice often, spending quiet time with him even as neither of them talked. It was so sweet. She tried to imagine just where she would fit into that routine and her mind put her on this bench beside Lucius more often than not, trying to help him through whatever hitches he had, but also...also she could see herself sitting at the base of Narcissa’s chair, reading, one pale hand in her hair, scratching at her scalp absently as they both read quietly, music flowing around them. It was so soothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Also it’s a lot of trying things that don’t work.” She gestured at a wastepaper basket that was full to overflowing. “At least he provides all the kindling we could ever need.” She laughed and opened her book. “It sounded like you landed on something rather quickly. Play if for me again, perhaps with whatever lyrics you’ve come up with if you have them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked at Lucius who was still smiling and he dove right in. It was a bit piecemeal, but it was certainly the bones of a song. But for what, exactly? Was it part of a large opera, or was it just something to stand on its own. Thinking about it for more than a moment, it felt as if a part of something bigger. There needed to be a backstory, there needed to be more after this. How was anyone supposed to care who this angel of music was when there was so little to go on? There needed to motivation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stopped playing and turned to Narcissa. She smirked at them and shook her head. “Coming along then, certainly better than hearing him bang out the same five bars for an hour on end trying to figure out what comes next, lyrically or musically. God forbid both.” But her look was still so fond under the smirk. She put her book to the side and stood coming to Lucius’s side and dropping a kiss onto his cheek, hesitating only a moment before doing the same to Hermione. “Though I expect you’ll be playing a few bars rather on repeat as you teach her how to score everything properly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius blushed a bit but nodded. “More than likely. It’s what the music takes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione herself was beyond blushing. She was more of a fire engine red. Narcissa Black had kissed her on the cheek. Though...a great bit of her wished she had turned into the kiss and that her lips and brushed against the other woman’s. She sighed quietly, trying to calm her racing heart. There would be time for that she was sure, but this was a first date of sorts. She just had to keep reminding herself of that. Maybe she would stay sane if she did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though who was she really kidding? No. No she wouldn’t. And yet she didn’t much care either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, yes I’ve heard it before.” And then she was kissing Lucius deeply and Hermione’s efforts to calm down were more than thwarted. “Just don’t keep her up too late. We do have another day of rehearsal in the morning. And I’m sure Lavender will barge in demanding the stage back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius’s nose crinkled. “If I have my way she won’t be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell that to your unruly new managers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes sparkled in dangerous delight. “Perhaps I will. In the morning. The post might be interesting for them all, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me see the drafts before they go out, otherwise, I’m agreeable. There’s nothing quite like learning by doing, yes Hermione?” She arched a rather suggestive eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s brain had stopped working a long time prior. She was aware that there was probably some scheme going on, but she couldn’t quite focus on what between her mind still replaying their kiss and that damn arched eyebrow. She was a bright woman. She should be able to focus through this, but no, these two had already ruined her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-what?” She managed to stammer out inelegantly, only darkening her blush even further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re ready to take out the lead soprano role full time. You have much to learn still, yes, but you can learn at the same time as taking on the role. If anything, more experience and time practicing will make you better faster.” Lucius’s eyes lit up. “Though...Flitwick isn’t the best. I hope he doesn’t ruin anything that I’ve taught you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s generally smart enough to recognize quality when he has it.” Narcissa tilted her head in a considering gesture before returning to her seat. “But plans and schemes are for tomorrow. For now you both should have fun together. The managers will come to heel shortly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius nodded and then pulled some blank paper towards him and produced a fountain pen that must have cost a fortune from seemingly nowhere. She almost wanted to take the pen from him, seek and almost opulent, shiny black with a golden nib still glossy even though it showed clear signs of use. He caught her gaze on it and smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A good pen makes all the difference between frustration and continuation in writing.” He shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’ll say the same about paper and pencils and ink, and really all office supplies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the same thing!” Not that she really had all that many occasions to use pen and paper, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t love them with all of her heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I suppose that informs me what to get you for Christmas,” Narcissa mumbled, rather more to herself than the room at large, but Hermione still nodded in reply. She would be overjoyed to receive anything, really, but a nice pen? Oh she might lose all reason for a few minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad, both Draco and Narcissa don’t see the difference that the right office supplies can truly make.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be fair, neither one of us does write as much as you, but past a certain point, I think your claims are a bit out there, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius ignored her and Narcissa shrugged before going back to her book. “Now,” he played the first few bars, Hermione listened intently and then watched as he paused for a moment, considering, before writing a few notes down. “I like to write things down in a first draft and leave it to sit for a few days before coming back and playing as written. If the notes written don’t sound exactly as I desire I’ll fiddle around with the note played or the duration until I believe it sounds better, then I’ll repeat the process again in a few days time until I’m happy with the piece. Some pieces take more drafts than others, some are fine on the first draft. It rather depends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That makes sense. Just like writing an important letter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, much like that, I suppose.” And he continued on through the piece, Hermione watching carefully as he wrote everything down, note by note, pausing sometimes to play the bar again and again, sometimes turning to Hermione to ask her opinion. She felt like she was learning so much in such a short amount of time. If she had learned from Lucius in person from the start, just how much would she know now three years on? It didn’t matter really, she shouldn’t long for things that hadn’t come to pass, but it was an idle curiosity nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they finally set aside the piece, done for now, Hermione felt tired, but there was no way she was ready to go upstairs back to her bed yet. She wanted this night to last for as long as possible, Narcissa quietly turning pages behind them, Lucius beside her playing and scribbling things down in an inspired rush, feeling him pressed into her side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Play me the songs you have done for Narcissa’s opera?” She asked, leaning against him a bit more heavily. “I want to hear the music behind the lyrics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. One moment.” He stood and crossed the room, pulling out a folio and then sitting back down beside her. “I have acts one and two done now. The third is still giving me issues, but the first two I am very happy with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The second I hear you play and sing this opera, I will be nothing more than a blubbering mess. How unbecoming of a lady,” Narcissa said, behind them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She teared up the first time I played her the opening aria,” Lucius whispered to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard that. There is no need to give all of my secrets away, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if it’s to me?” Hermione turned what she hoped were very convincing puppy dog eyes onto Narcissa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffed. “Perhaps it’s not so bad, but.” And then she turned right back to her book, but her eyes weren’t moving. Hermione smiled at the woman and felt herself fall just a little bit more in love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the beginning then?” Lucius asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please.” And Hermione settled in again, leaning against him a bit, not enough to impede his range of motion, but enough to feel him. He started to play and Hermione let her eyes slip shut at the music washing over her. Oh, it was exquisite. It raised goosebumps on her arms and sent shivers down her spine. She felt as if she were in audio heaven. Lucius played through the songs one by one, and Hermione felt herself getting more and more tired, but still she didn’t want to stop listening. Perhaps she should open her eyes and then maybe she could last a little longer, but she didn’t want to. Having her eyes closed allowed her to listen more fully. Lucius’s music deserved to be listened to in its most pure form.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet she felt her head drooping farther and farther until it rested on Lucius’s shoulder. He didn’t stop playing, if anything she felt him turn just enough to drop a kiss onto the top of her head before going on to the next song, playing as if her weight was nothing, as if the limitations on the movement of his right arm meant nothing. She tried desperately to sit up again, but she was just far too tired and much too comfortable sitting like this to do so. Lucius finished playing the act, pausing for a moment to shuffle the pages together in an order, careful not to jostle Hermione too much, he set out the next act, but before he could start playing Hermione felt the air shift around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come along, Lucius, it’s far too late already, it’s nearing three. We all need some sleep after tonight. As it is, I don’t think even Hermione and I’s leanings towards waking in the morning will save us tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione hummed her agreement. She was just so tired. There had been so much excitement just around her performance and now there was this? She was actually half asleep on Lucius’s shoulder. A day ago that would have been almost unfathomable, yet here it was. And yet even beyond that it was more than she could imagine. This was more than just a meeting, it was a coming together. How was she supposed to stay awake at all tomorrow after all of this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More immediately how was she supposed to climb all the way back upstairs to her bed? Her limbs felt like lead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Hermione, I have a nightgown you can borrow. No need to make you climb all those stairs. Our bed is plenty big enough for all three of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And suddenly Hermione was more awake than she’d been for the last hour. Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at the other woman in surprise. She well knew that there was going to be nothing more than sleeping, they were all too tired for that, but still, sharing a bed? It was almost too intimate to put words to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is, if you’re amenable.” She almost looked unsure for a moment before Hermione shook her head as best she could while half her face was still pressed into Lucius. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m more than amenable.” She finally levered herself off Lucius and immediately missed his warmth beside her. Standing just made her even more aware of how tired she was. Rehearsal in the morning was going to be a bear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s responding smile was small. “Come along then.” She led them back up the hall, towards where the boat had landed before turning just before the slope down to that landing, walking along a well worn path that sloped upward a bit, carrying them above the level of most of the rest of the living quarters, turning again, and then dead ending in a large room that clearly bore touches of both Lucius and Narcissa. She swept to an armoire and shuffled through its drawers before pulling out a fairly standard night shift and handing it to Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you go, that should fit you well enough even if you are a bit taller than me. Do you need help getting out of that corset?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded. They hadn’t exactly put her in anything practical. In fact after being a dancer for so long and hardly ever having to wear one, it had been rather shocking to get used to, let alone sing in, despite the fact that it wasn’t even tied that tightly upon her request.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy enough then. I should have thought ahead and had you change into something more comfortable before coming down here, but in the heat of the moment, it escaped me. Turn around then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione turned around on legs that shook from more than just simple tiredness now. Narcissa’s fingers found her, helping her unlace the skirt before pulling it away, shedding the petticoats easily, leaving her in nothing but her chemise and the corset. She felt more bare now than she ever had in the revealing dance costumes, even if she was covered from chest to knees instead of half naked. She felt herself trembling just slightly as Narcissa finally started to pull on the laces, loosening them efficiently before the corset finally fell away a few minutes later. She tried to pull in a deep breath, but despite the fact that her rib cage wasn’t in a vice grip anymore, she couldn’t. Her heart was beating too hard and she felt more like she was going to faint now than when the corset had first been tightened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Relax, darling one. We don’t bite, nor do you even have to sleep in the bed with us tonight. You can sleep in Draco’s old bed if you would prefer. There is absolutely no pressure. There never will be. What you give to us, no matter what it is or when it happens, is a gift.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione turned and almost threw herself into Narcissa’s arms. The other woman hugged her back as Hermione tucked her head into the shorter woman’s neck. “Thank you,” she said, murmuring the words into skin that smelled like the cedar of the rehearsal room floor and roses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They pulled apart slowly. “I’ll leave you to change then and go fetch Lucius. He’s probably wrapped himself up in the music again.” She shook her head fondly. “I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded. She slipped out of her chemise and into the nightgown quickly, dropping her last garment with the others. Ugh, having to put all that on tomorrow was going to be quite frankly the worst. Especially just to take it back off again to quickly change into her dance gear once she got to her bed. But that was a worry for tomorrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked around the room for a bit, a discarded dress draped over the chair in front of what was clearly Narcissa’s vanity, a cape half on the floor, half on a chaise that clearly screamed Lucius. Overall, though, the room was tidy, if lived in. It felt like a home, a place for respite, and oh god, looking at the bed, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No wonder Narcissa had said there was room for all of them. It took up half the back wall. She wondered where in the world they had gotten it made. And with twenty thousand francs a month, it was bound to be the most comfortable thing she’d ever slept on. She couldn’t wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were footsteps behind her and she turned to see Narcissa and Lucius sweeping into the room, side by side, tucked against each other, looking very much the picture perfect couple. They split to their sides of the room, pulling out sleepwear. Lucius seemed to favor sleep pants made from loose cotton rather than a nightgown. And he didn’t seem to have a shirt to go with that. And oh God, Hermione might need to be sitting down. It was just sleeping. It was fine. She could handle it. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she turned her back on them anyway to give them the privacy to change. Narcissa’s hand found her shoulder a couple minutes later. She turned to find the woman smiling, warm and inviting, with just a touch of mischief in her gaze. Hermione’s eyes fell to her nightgown that was much shorter than the one she’d given Hermione to wear with a good amount more lace. She was convinced right then and there that these two were trying to kill her. She was bound to stroke out right here and now. She was sure of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready to sleep?” Narcissa asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione just nodded, mute. It wasn’t like there was another answer anyway, but right now getting her vocal cords to work was a bit beyond her, tired and absolutely blown away as she was. Her eyes landed on Lucius, now in his sleep pants with his mask still firmly in place. She tilted her head confused. Certainly he wasn’t going to sleep in that. Narcissa turned and followed her look, frowning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” she said quietly, sighing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does he usually sleep in that?” Hermione asked, voice no more than a whisper. Lucius was looking back at them, watching, waiting, but she couldn’t tell what he really felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he kept it on because she was there. Her feet were moving before she had thought anything through. One second she was beside Narcissa and the other she was in front of Lucius. He looked at her, the side of his face that she could see as much of a mask as the piece of ivory that hid the other half from her. She lifted up her hand and set it over the mask gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you trust me?” She asked, voice steady, eyes never leaving his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to.” She could feel him trembling underneath her hand, not enough to be visible, but enough that she could feel it. Oh, she just wanted to take this man into her arms and tell him that it would be alright, but she couldn’t yet promise that. She knew that whatever was below the mask, she wouldn’t care, but until it was all out in the open she couldn’t guarantee that something in her reaction wouldn’t hurt him. So she didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I want to be worthy of that trust.” Her other hand came up to cup the other side of his face, feeling smooth skin below her palm. God, he was such a beautiful man. “And I want you to be comfortable as you sleep, and around me in general. No secrets, no lingering doubts in your mind. Just all of us together, sharing everything with one another.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed hard and finally she could see the fear in his eyes. This was make or break for the both of them. One wrong move and she would never be allowed back down here again. One wrong move, and more importantly, she might just break him. And she would do anything to prevent that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I take this off?” She finally asked. And even as she trembled on the inside, everything else about her was steady. Nothing she would do would ever give him the impression that whatever she found under the mask frightened or disgusted her. She would make damn sure of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shaky breath and then a whispered, “Yes.” He closed his eyes, almost flinching away from her already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took the mask off with gentle hands and put it to the side on his dressing table where other masks rested. Hermione looked up at him and she could see now why he’d been driven down into the tunnels. Anyone else who saw this face would think him a monster. But she wasn’t anyone else. This was just Lucius in front of her. This was the man she had fallen in love with sight unseen. No lack of eyebrow and eyelashes and scarring would change that. She placed her hand back gently on the scarred side of his face, running her fingers over the skin gently. The skin was rough and warmer than the rest of him, but it was still most assuredly him. She felt a tear leak from his eye, hitting her fingers. She wiped it gently away before raising herself up on her tip toes and kissing his scarred cheek, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses on the skin, trailing up to kiss where his eyebrow should be, kissing his forehead that looked for all the world like part of his skull peaked through, and as his eyes slipped closed she kissed his eyelid and then the tip of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>More tears were flowing freely now and she kissed those away too, wrapping her arms around him. God damn every single person who had made this man’s life hell, but she wouldn’t be one of them. She would love him, try to make up for it all, because what his face looked like had little bearing on the man inside. He was a better person than she had ever met by far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally stopped shaking in her arms and finally stopped crying, she hugged him tighter. “You didn’t run,” he said, voice rough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I didn’t. Not from you. Not ever.” And then finally she kissed him on the mouth. He froze for one long second before he came alive, his arms wrapping around her, gripping her to him, hard as he kissed her as if their lives depended on it. She felt the outpouring of love from him, the thankfulness radiating from every movement of his lips, and when she opened her mouth to let him in, he tasted of salvation, whether his, hers, or both of theirs, she wasn’t quite sure of, nor did she care to think about it much. Because a beautiful man was kissing her for the first time in her life, and it was perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finally pulled apart, breathless and clearly wanting. Hermione felt herself shiver without the heat of him against her. She almost wished that they had time tonight to explore other avenues of pleasure because she was more than ready, seeing Lucius pant like a man in the desert. She had half a mind to fan herself, but refrained. She had standards, even if they were probably much lower than Narcissa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Hermione,” Lucius said, and her name was like a benediction on his lips. She had the distinct impression that if he had been willing to do almost anything for her before, now, oh now he would fight a god and win just for her. She took a deep breath in and tried to calm herself from all the rushing feelings, joy, feral need, love, awe, a thousand other emotions she didn’t have the presence of mind to name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing to thank me for.” And she considered the next words carefully. It was honestly too soon, she knew that, and yet there were no better words. “Nothing would change how I feel about you, Lucius. Nothing. I’ll fight the world for you. I couldn’t care less what they think about you, about us, about all of us together. I don’t care.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So many people would.” His face darkened. “So many people have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Narcissa was there behind her, Hermione could feel her warmth against her back. She swallowed hard. She hadn’t forgotten the other woman was there, not really, but for her to step into this moment now just rachetted up everything that Hermione was feeling. A hand found her waist and squeezed and Hermione swore she could feel the warmth of her hand everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never have. And now we know, neither has Hermione.” Another step and Narcissa was pressed against Hermione’s back and she almost fell to her knees feeling the warmth of her skin only separated by two thin layers of cloth. “This is everything we’ve wanted, Lucius. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Now there is nothing stopping us from taking it, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione couldn’t help herself. She was feeling far too much. She leaned her head back against Narcissa’s shoulder, exhaling and exaltation to the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God yes,” Lucius breathed, an answer to Narcissa’s question, but with how </span>
  <em>
    <span>hungry</span>
  </em>
  <span> his eyes looked perhaps also an exclamation at seeing Hermione in Narcissa’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully Hermione was turned around to face Narcissa. Narcissa’s arms circled Hermione’s neck, hands tangling in her curls, pulling just enough to make Hermione gasp. She pushed her backwards, one step, and then another, and then she was resting against Lucius’s sturdy chest. A whimper escaped her, there was no helping it. It was all too much and not enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad you didn’t disappoint me, Hermione,” and her name was purr on Narcissa’s lips. “Oh, I knew you wouldn’t, but seeing is always believing, is it not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded, feeling Lucius’s breathing speed up behind her, hearing the faint beating of his heart over the thundering over her own, smelling cedar and rose and god the </span>
  <em>
    <span>heat, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the heat of all of them pressed together was a delicious torture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Narcissa leaned forward and kissed her and Hermione forgot all of that. There was just Narcissa’s mouth, as smart as it ever was in class delivering insults, dismantling Hermione from the inside out. She moaned into the other woman’s mouth, only held up by the fact that she was pressed between the two of them. Lucius wrapped his arms around them both, pulling them together all the more firmly. She could feel him, hard against her lower back and she whimpered. Oh, she had never been this turned on in her life, she was sure she was going to combust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before she could, Narcissa pulled away. She kissed her way down Hermione’s neck and then stayed there, breathing her in. “If only it wasn’t three in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius growled. “Who needs sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We all do,” Narcissa said, hitting his arm lightly. “Do you want to deal with me without sleep?” At that Lucius loosened his grip on them. “I thought not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius stepped away from them and cleared his throat. “I see the point, but how you will sleep after that is beyond me.” He ran a hand through his long hair and huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione was barely keeping herself standing. Her knees were gelatine she was sure. The only thing that was keeping her upright was all the dance training she’d ever had. Narcissa’s eyes looked over Hermione’s shoulder, looking Lucius up and down. She looked just as hungry as Lucius had earlier, but she stayed right where she was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if it’s too much for you, you can go take care of it. I know you know how.” She licked her lips and Hermione got the distinct impression that Narcissa had seen him do so, and liked the sight and dear lord didn’t either of them care about the structural integrity of her body, or the fact that after a few more comments like that, wetness would be running down her legs?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not leaving for a moment.” Not after all of this, was left unsaid, but Hermione heard it anyway, and it just made her want to step into Lucius’s arms again, sleep be damned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Narcissa’s grabbed her hand. “Come on, darling, do you mind being in the middle again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Her voice was more of an excited squeak than anything else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Narcissa smirked and led her to the bed, pulling back the covers and then letting her climb in ahead. She settled easily and she’d been right, this was the most comfortable bed she’d ever been in. She sighed and sank down into the fluffy confines of it, feeling the softness of the sheets on her legs. Narcissa slid in beside her, wrapping her up in her arms in an instant. Hermione felt herself throb at all the contact, but the excitement was starting to die down as her brain got the message that it was truly time to sleep. She could feel that overwhelming tiredness from earlier started to creep up on her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Lucius?” Narcissa asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius was still where he’d been standing earlier, but at the comment he finally snapped out of it, striding across the room, climbing under the covers, and sandwiching Hermione between them securely. He tugged on a cord and bed curtains descended, blocking out the light from all the candles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You both are going to kill me, aren’t you,” Lucius mumbled, finally settling into position, pulling Hermione’s head so it rested on his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kill </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Hermione said, indignant, “what about </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? At least you two have already been together I’m just here trying not to combust.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And both Lucius and Narcissa laughed. “Oh, there will be time for combusing in the future, I’m sure,” Narcissa said, nibling on Hermione’s ear before settling in again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I hope so,” Lucius added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush, I’m trying to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could practically see Lucius roll his eyes at Narcissa even through the darkness. “Goodnight, my loves,” he said instead, not fighting it, just sighing, his whole body relaxing under Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight.” She shut her eyes, allowing herself a moment to marvel in the fact that, a. She was in bed with both Lucius and Narcissa and b. Had been kissed by both of them so thoroughly her knees had given out multiple times. But only a moment. And then she settled in to sleep and it didn’t take long of listening to the rhythmic breathing of the two people beside her before she was fast asleep herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she woke, despite how late they had gone to bed, both Narcissa and Lucius had managed to wake up before her. She could hear the distant sounds of piano, and maybe someone cooking breakfast? She wasn’t quite sure. She slipped out of bed and looked at the pile of clothing she had to put on to go back upstairs and frowned. She wasn’t ready for that quite yet, not to mention she’d need help getting back into the corset anyway. So she padded out of the bedroom after slipping on the slippers she’d worn to perform, making her way to the kitchen where she could smell something cooking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh good, I was just about to come and get you up. We have time for a quick breakfast before we have to leave for rehearsal. We definitely won’t be early this morning.” Narcissa smiled at Hermione. “Would you go fetch Lucius? Half the time he forgets to eat lunch so it’s always a decent idea to make sure he eats breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked down the hall to find him playing, eyes closed, lost in the music. Hermione slipped on the bench beside him and looked at the pages in front of him. They were half scribbled out, bars crossed out, notes rewritten and then rewritten again, but what she was hearing flowed beautifully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Second draft?” She asked, leaning her head again on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Third. The second couldn’t be seen for the ink.” He kept playing, repeating a bar here and there, scowling, trying to do more than just </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the third act?” She guessed. It sounded similar, she could hear some of the echoes back to previous themes weaving in and out of the melody.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. The last aria. This one needs to be perfect. It will be a great deal more drafts I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, there is breakfast now, if you can pause for a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The song started to fade, coming to a tender end and Lucius sighed, opening his eyes and looking at the sheet music. “Yes, I think I can do that.” He looked down at his hands, smudged with almost as much ink as was on the page. “Though I will have to wash my hands first or suffer the consequences.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At this point if you didn’t I think you’d get ink all over the bread.” She scrunched her nose up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should see the look she gives when either Draco or I don’t wash our hands. If looks could kill.” And yet his tone of voice was anything but scared. In fact if she didn’t know any better she would swear there was just a touch of excitement in his tone. She thought about it for a moment. She’d seen Narcissa angry, never at her of course, and yes, perhaps she could definitely see the draw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled herself up and turned his face towards her, kissing him softly for a few moments, reveling in the fact that she was now allowed to do this sort of thing. He sighed and relaxed into her, she felt the rough skin beneath her hand and only then did she realize he hadn’t put his mask back on this morning. Her heart swelled a little bit at that. He really did trust her now, oh thank the stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, we shouldn’t keep her waiting, yes?” She slipped off the bench and strode from the room, back into the kitchen where she was careful to wash her hands first. While Narcissa being angry at others might be a turn on, she was sure that she would just melt into a pile of blubbering goo. And when Narcissa looked at her approvingly, well, that was much worth the effort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius walked in a minute later and did the same before they all sat at the little table and dug in. “I sent off the notes with a courrier. The managers should have them by the time you ascend. We’ll see how this round of notes will go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve timed the last one so I can intercept it, if need be?” Narcissa asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione watched the two of them, wondering about just what the notes contained. Though she kept her mouth shut. This seemed like something that if she just listened long enough she would find her answers faster than if she asked questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it will arrive after your lesson this morning when you’re free. I’m sure the managers will just be getting in at that point. They never have been ones for early mornings, none of them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa nodded and then turned to Hermione. “We’ve sent another round of notes, to the managers and to Lavender as well.” She looked at Lucius, a chasting look on her face. “I managed to stop him from sending one to the Vicomte. He truly is of no consequence now.” A smile curled upon her lips. “Well, unless Draco did manage to work his charms on him. Then I suppose he’s still in the game, but in a much different place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t see how you are so certain,” Lucius huffed, shoving a bite of bread into his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius, I was certain about Draco, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, grudgingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m right about the Vicomte.” She turned to Hermione. “He told you he found the man attractive, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, yes, but Draco thinks any well groomed man is attractive. He isn’t that picky. Mostly the opera house just isn’t full of the right type of men.” She lifted a shoulder. Outside of the singers and musicians the backstage crew was a rougher crowd and there were a great many more of them than there were of the more upper echelons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa inclined her head to acknowledge the point. “He has good taste. I would worry if he was interested in...most of the crew really. And has he ever not gotten a man he’s truly wanted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well no, though sometimes it does take a while. I swear there have been some men I thought he had no chance with and yet…” She swore it was some sort of magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned back to Lucius. “Thus my point stands, he’s not a problem anymore. That, and even if he was a problem, Hermione is ours now, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded even though the question wasn’t really directed at her. Of course she was theirs. After all these years there was no way she would go anywhere now that she finally had a seat at the table. Quite literally in this case. She popped a bite of apple in her mouth and smiled. Somehow she thought that apples would always remind her of this first night after this. She wasn’t upset over that thought. Ours. She was theirs. They were hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, fine I suppose you are right, no need to waste a note on a man who isn’t standing in the way, but he still is the patron. He could hold sway over the managers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa waved him off. “Let Draco be concerned with him and I’m sure he’ll be on our side in a short time. Whether he knows it or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do the notes say?” Hermione asked, trying to get the conversation back on track. She was almost done with her breakfast, she never did eat much in the morning before rehearsal, it weighed her down, and after Narcissa finished they would have to get ready and go, and she was dying to know before then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To the manager Monsieur Dumbledore is was a rather strong suggestion that Lavender not be allowed back and to Madame McGonagall, a reminder that Lucius hasn’t been paid. And the note to Lavender said not to return or there would be more unpleasantness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione arched an eyebrow at the both of them. “More frogs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius laughed, a dark little chuckle that certainly did</span>
  <em>
    <span> something </span>
  </em>
  <span>to Hermione. “Oh, it will certainly sound like frogs are involved, but no. If she doesn’t step back from the lead role, she’ll have a rather embarrassing time on stage in Il Muto, after all, all it takes to ruin a performance is a bit of numbing of the throat and nothing of any quality will be coming from her mouth. And it’s all temporary, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens if that’s not enough to scare them into paying up?” Hermione popped the last of her breakfast into her mouth, leaning forward, curious. These two didn’t strike her as people who would truly cause harm, but...well, they were rather...mischievous was too innocent a word, scheming perhaps was better, but it didn’t cover everything. Perhaps there wasn’t one word for them both really, beyond the fact that they cared about their family and friends first and foremost, and beyond that, well, more of a grey area. Hermione understood that, really, though her own morals were a bit stricter, if not by that much, truly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s quite easy to ruin attendance with just a hint of danger, nothing too serious.” Lucius shrugged. “Shake the chandelier a bit and everyone will go running. An ominous echoing voice from the rafters talking about ending guests, the like. We’ve done both before, it’s gotten us what we wanted after a few weeks of profits being down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Businessmen are led around everywhere by the bottom line and their dicks.” Narcissa shrugged. “It’s easy enough to manipulate them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione gasped in a breath at the profanity. That shouldn’t turn her on, but it certainly did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The owner before Slughorn rather did our work for us, it has been a while since we’ve had to convince anyone by harder means.” Narcissa sighed. “I enjoyed the quiet times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As did I, but they’ll be quite again and we can continue to live as we have been. All will be well. I’ll make sure of it. As I always have. This opera house and our family will thrive as always.” Lucius picked up the last bit of his bread and stood. “Now, I have a date with a piano, and you two I believe, have rehearsal.” He smiled at both of them before circling the table and kissing both of them on the cheek before sweeping off. A minute later the piano started up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione turned to Narcissa. “I mean, I know all this would be happening anyway to make sure you have money, but I mean, it has to be more difficult to also shoehorn me into getting the managers to cooperate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps, but in one view there is no better time than now before those two get set in their ways. Yes, Lavender might be the safe choice with an audience already built up, but fresh managers and fresh faces should go together, really. Why remain stale and safe. Besides, once you take the stage in a whole opera? No one will be asking after Lavender anymore. She never really was that good to begin with.” Narcissa stood, clearing the remains of breakfast. Hermione helped her put everything away and in a minute Narcissa turned back to her. “But for now, come, we must get back upstairs before anyone else senses something amiss. Until our plans bear fruit, it is business as usual.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded and headed towards the bedroom to don the horrible corset again. The only thing she rather regretted about stepping into the lead soprano role was the fact that she would have to wear corsets on a regular basis now. She would much rather walk off a cliff, really, but being out on stage had made it worth it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If only just. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Touch me, Trust me, Music Shall Caress You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this is where we earn that M rating folks. Did I accidentally get carried away? Yes. Is this chapter over half smut? Also yes. Do I regret my decisions? No. Sometimes life just calls for 13-15k of smut. it's fine.</p><p>That being said, you aren't a fan of that type of thing, depart when Narcissa and Hermione leave to go down to find Lucius and you won't miss anything important, believe me, and I'll see you next chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry walked into the Opera a little before noon, a small smile on his face. Draco would be out of class soon and then they would go to lunch. He felt a little bubble of happiness suffuse his being. He hadn’t been this happy in...god, it had to be when he was little playing with Hermione. His eyes widened a bit. He’d totally forgotten to go and congratulate Hermione last night on her performance! He had started talking to Draco and totally forgotten. He hoped that this morning wasn’t too late to give her his praise and say his hellos. He could use a friend, especially with well, he wasn’t very certain what to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>with Draco other than that he did want to be with him. He’d spent so long denying what he wanted, but then Draco had waltzed in front of him and well, it had been too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that didn’t mean he knew where to go from here. He could use some friendly advice. Surely Hermione would know what to do. Even when they were younger she’d always had that bookish wisdom about her. And living in a place like the opera house, she must have more worldly knowledge than he did after being locked away in an ivory cage. At least he hoped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damnable! Will they all walk out? This is damnable!” Minerva shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry blinked, looking up the stairs to find both Albus and Minerva huddled together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Minerva please don’t shout!” Albus replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearly Harry had walked into the start of something. After last night's success of Hermione on stage and the gala, what did they have to shout about? They had secured enough donations on top of his patronage to keep the opera running without ticket sales at all for at least a month, and considering the line at the box office he’d just seen, that wasn’t going to be a problem either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s publicity, and the take is vast, free publicity.” Albus said, tone a bit quieter, but in a rather opulent marble room, his voice still carried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked at the paper in his hand. He hadn’t yet had a chance to read it. After how late he was out with Draco, he’d gotten up, gotten dressed quickly, grabbed the paper for the carriage ride over, but hadn’t actually opened it. He’d spent the entire thinking of Draco instead. He sighed a little bit happily. Those thoughts of their kiss were certainly not a waste of time, but now he felt a bit behind. He flipped the paper open and the headline was “Mystery of Gala Night.” He read the first few lines quickly. Hermione had disappeared? When had anyone figured that out? He hadn’t heard a fuss about it, and he had stayed for most of the gala.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally listened again, Minerva and Albus had moved on to talking about something else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear Albus, what a charming gala! Hermione was in a word, sublime. We were hardly bereft when Carlotta left. On that note, the diva’s a disaster, why must you cast her when she’s seasons past her prime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry  saw a flash of an envelope in Albus’s hands. Had someone sent him a letter like that? Who would have done that? Well, more who would have done that and Albus would have actually opened the letter from? If it was just a regular opera patron surely his secretary would have pulled it and sent it off to be burnt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear Minerva, just a brief reminder, my salary has not been paid,” her scottish accent seemed to get thicker as her fury increased. “Send it care of the Ghost by return of post. P.T.O. no one likes a debtor, so it’s better if my orders are obeyed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both looked at each other for a moment before both asking, “Who would have the gall to send this? Someone with a puerile brain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These are both signed O.G,” Albus said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the hell is he?” Minerva asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Opera ghost!” They both exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Phantom of the Opera? He’d heard the whispers around the opera house the night before, but he’d thought it just superstition. He was real person, that demanded payment? For what? That didn’t seem right. How in the world had he gotten away with it up until this point?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing short of shocking!” Minerva exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is mocking our position,” Albus agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In addition he wants money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a funny apparition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both continued, “To expect a large retainer, he is clearly quite insane!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is he!” Came from behind Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to see Lavender and her entourage come storming in. Harry felt rather caught in a whirlwind this morning. All he really wanted was lunch with Draco. Perhaps he could slip out the side instead? But then again he was rather in the middle of the room and that would probably be noticable. Damn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have your letter!” She gestured at Albus, completely incensed. “A letter which I rather resent!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no, was this going to be another one of her diva fits? He’d missed all of the one yesterday, but with what Draco had told him, he really didn’t want to be around for this one either. Escaping out the wings seemed more and more attractive by the second. If only Lavender hadn’t come to a stop right beside him. And now the managers were coming down the stairs towards Lavender. Wonderful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minerva looked towards Albus, eyebrow raised. “Did you send this letter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not!” Albus scowled. “We’ve had the job a day, why send something that would have this happen? We have another show tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t send it?” Lavender looked disbelieving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Minerva asked, holding her hand out for the letter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lavender held it up, waving it at Albus instead of handing it over. “Tell me, this is not the letter you sent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Albus finally managed to take the letter from her. “And what is it that I’m meant to have sent?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all gathered around the note. Harry figured he might as well run with it, now that he was rather embroiled in it, even against his wishes. It was a rather intriguing mystery anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your days at that Opera Populaire are numbered. Hermione Granger will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take her place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked directly at Albus. He didn’t seem like a man to make...outright threats anyway. He rather suspected that there was more going on under that bushy beard than he let on. Albus turned to look at Minerva and both of them looked utterly confused and anxious, looking back to Lavender who was waving her arms around rather dramatically and cursing Hermione’s name in very </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> Italian. Who did she really think she was fooling with this act?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lavender seemed to stay in place long enough for Albus and Minerva to take control of the conversation again without worrying about the diva blowing up in their faces. “Far too many notes for my taste, and most of them about Hermione.” They both took one of Lavender’s arms and started to bring her up the stairs. Well, it seemed obvious where they stood on the whole Hermione singing tonight if their valiant tugging on Lavender indicated anything. “All we’ve heard since we’ve came is Miss Granger’s name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Granger has returned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry turned to see Madame Black and Draco at her side. He lit up and descended the few steps to him, waving his hello quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long have you been listening?” Harry whispered to the other man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since Albus came in, longer than you actually. Sound carries here if you know where to stand. Also if you know where to stand, there are places where no sound escapes from.” He winked and Harry found himself blushing profusely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope no worse for wear as far as we’re concerned?” Albus asked, his grandfatherly act firmly back in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where precisely is she now?” Minerva asked walking down a few stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked at Draco with a raised eyebrow. Yes, where was she? Also perhaps more importantly, how had anyone even discovered she was gone to write about it in a newspaper? Lavender was easy enough, the woman probably told the reporters about her fleeing the opera house herself, but that definitely wasn’t the Hermione he remembered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s having lunch after rehearsal, like she does every working day, where else would she be?” Madame Black arched her eyebrow, and Draco definitely got that look from his mother. It was like looking in a mirror. “But I saw the papers making a mountain out of a molehill and thought I should let you know that she showed up this morning for practice as normal, as always. These things always do tend to spiral out of hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione’s always been a dependable member of the corps,” Draco chimed in just for emphasis. He turned only to Harry and mouthed, “I’ll tell you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hmm, so there was at least a bit of mystery then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will she sing?” Lavender arched forward, a worried look on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black’s look for Lavender was a scathing blade. “I have no idea why she wouldn’t.” She held out a note similar to the rest of the notes everyone else had been waving around. So the plot kept thickening, it was almost like an opera itself. Harry was definitely entertained. “Here, I have a note.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every single other person in the room spoke up at the same time, “Let me see it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Albus was the only one to add, “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black handed over the note to Ablus. He opened it and read it over quickly before reading aloud. “Lady and Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature detailing how my theater is to be run.” Albus shared a skeptical look at Minerva before continuing. “You have not followed my instructions. I shall give you one last chance. Hermione Granger has returned to you and I’m anxious her career should progress. In the new production of Il Muto, you will therefore cast Carlotta as the pageboy and put Miss Granger in the role of countess. The role which Miss Granger plays calls for charm and appeal. The role of the pageboy is silent which makes my casting, in a word, ideal. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in box five, which </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. I remain, my good managers, your obedient servant, O.G.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked at Draco again, a worried look on his face. Disaster beyond your imagination? What in the world was that about?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Later, trust me, I’ll explain,” Draco mouthed before the world erupted in yet another Lavender tantrum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione! It’s all a ploy to help Hermione!” She shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you, maybe want to get out of here before this becomes a thing?” Harry asked, scooting closer to Draco, whispering in his ear. “We were going to go to lunch, after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see how it plays out, yes? It’s always entertaining to watch her meltdown.” He had a wicked grin on his face and Harry found that he couldn’t say no to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t blame me if you’re hungry later. I’m sure all that muscle mass takes a great deal of food to maintain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to worry, lover, I won’t waste away missing one lunch. If you’re really worried you can bring me a snack during stage rehearsal.” He winked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry felt himself blushing and willed his face to stop turning the color of a tomato. Damn it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And suddenly Lavender was in front of Harry, shouting at him. “The Vicomte, her lover!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry startled out of the little bubble he’d been in with Draco. “What? Lover? I haven’t even talked to Miss Granger, yet. I know that opera is wildly imaginative, but really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lavender rolled her eyes at him and stormed towards backstage. The rest of them followed, Draco and Harry trailing the furthest behind. Draco was holding in what looked like a painful amount of snickering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, if she only knew!” Draco finally managed to gasp, keeping his voice down enough that no one else would hear them. “Hermione, your lover.” He winced as Lavender started to call out in strident Italian, missing notes left and right in her haste.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it could’ve happened if you hadn’t showed up at the party. I was thinking about it.” Honestly now in the light of day it had been a ridiculous thought. He wasn’t really interested in Hermione, she was just a tolerable option that his parents wouldn’t have absolutely shot down considering their shared childhood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good thing I caught you then.” Draco looped his arm through Harry’s. “Hermione’s already got her hands full anyway.” He shot his mother, walking ahead of them, a significant look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, your mother and Hermione?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed dramatically. “And father.” He licked his lips and glanced up at Harry through his eyelashes. “Can I trust you with something, Harry, really? About the Phantom. And my family and our livelihood? If I can’t trust you...well, I’d rather this not go any further.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco, are you alright?” He pulled them to a stop, letting the train of insanity go on its merry way. They could catch up in a minute. The rest of the opera house seemed to be following along, too, so they were left alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Harry, really. Just...I suppose you’re the first person I’ve actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to tell, even if we’ve only known each other for a night, and perhaps you’re the worst person to tell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is anyone in danger?” That line about the disaster was rather haunting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, not really, anyway. It might seem like it for a second, but no one has ever actually been in danger. Well. There was the man who tried to kidnap mother, but he rather did deserve it. And the man who held father captive...and I think another stagehand who got his rocks off taking advantage of girls in the corps when I was pretty young. I think there might be one more I’m forgetting, but it’s definitely less than a hand worth of people. Otherwise, yeah, no, no one is in danger who doesn’t actually do something horrible to earn it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just looked at Draco, wide eyed. “You’re not exactly inspiring confidence here, Draco.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry, I mean it is the truth, but it’s just hard to explain I guess. I’ve never told anyone else, obviously.” He looked around, but found no one watching them. “But honestly, that’s the worst of it, really. Can I trust you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry was at a loss. He really didn’t know if he could handle Draco’s secret, whatever it was, but he wouldn’t know for sure until Draco actually told him. If that wasn’t a rather Faustian dilemma. But, well, whatever it was he did trust himself to do whatever was truly in Draco’s best interest, even if he didn’t think so.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he finally said, “you can trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco relaxed like a puppet with his strings cut. “Thank god.” He stepped in closer to Harry and whispered in his ear. “My father is the Phantom of the Opera, has been before I was born. Before that it really was just a rumor. He was just trying to provide a life for himself and mother and despite whatever these managers say, he actually does work for his salary. At least two operas a year are his creation and he mentors talent from the orchestra and, well, Hermione, other singers too, but Hermione has been completely his pupil. It’s not like he just takes and sits on his ass. He looked up fair market compensation for what he was doing and asked for it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry stepped back and looked at Draco with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” His voice was steady, his eyes guileless and honest. Harry held his gaze for a few long moments before shaking his head. He believed him. Oh god, he believed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now what?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m...not entirely sure what to do with that information.” Draco deflated a little bit, looking fearful. Harry certainly didn’t want him to look like that. “But I’m not about to run off and tell the authorities, or what not. I trust you when you say no one is in danger and that your father works for his salary. I think...I think I’d like to meet him, though, to prove all of this? Would that be ok?” And Harry stopped for a moment at that. He’d just asked to meet Draco’s father. They had been dating a day, and not even officially dating a day. Though he supposed it wasn’t the worst. Officially courting a woman took asking her father for permission. He didn’t think Draco would really be into all of that, but, well. Maybe?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco frowned harder. “My father doesn’t really ever meet anyone. He’s well, he doesn’t trust anyone to see him, not after how he grew up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry tilted his head. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not really my story to tell. But imagine if you didn’t look as handsome as you are how people would treat you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry ran a hand through his hair. Did this man talk in riddles half the time? Where in the world did he even get that from? His father, probably, he couldn’t imagine a man who hid in an opera house to be the most straightforward of a man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m confused still.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I didn’t really think that was going to clear anything up, but just...think about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached out and took Draco’s hand. “I will think about it.” God knows the mystery of all of this was going to be something on his mind perpetually going forward. He had to be interested in the least straightforward man he’d ever met, didn’t he. But then Draco smiled at him, small and a bit tremulous after everything, and Harry decided once again that this was all worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if you still want to meet him in a few months...well, I think it might be ok? Don’t hold me to my word here, but.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Father might make an exception because I’ve never been with anyone longer than two months at most.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked at Draco then. “Do you see us together for longer than two months?” It had been a day. A day. He knew the question wasn’t really fair, but...well, he was rather ready to charge straight ahead into the intervening years with Draco at his side, even barely knowing the man in front of him. Even after all of this Phantom business. There was something inside him that just screamed that this man was worth it all, that he had finally met his match. What else could a man who had finally, finally inspired him to stop lying to himself about his attractions be but someone truly important. Perhaps even the one, but really he was truly puttering the cart before the horse now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think for the first time, I might actually want to try.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And since there was no one around them still, Harry stepped forward and kissed Draco gently. A second later Draco’s arms were around his neck and the kiss took a turn from gentle to decidedly less appropriate for the middle of backstage where anyone could appear, but Harry didn’t much care. Draco’s tongue was a sin he’d gladly go to hell for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They broke apart a minute later, decidedly short of breath. “Well, should we catch up with the lot of them? You did want to see Lavender’s meltdown for the entertainment value.” Harry cocked an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco smiled and looped his arm through Harry’s. “I’ll lead the way then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And before they could take two steps Lavender and the trail of onlookers rounded the corner and came charging towards them. All of Lavender’s attendants were carrying her many boxes and bags of things. From the amount it looked like everything she owned, though Harry thought that he may well be wrong about that. Lavender screamed that she was the type of women who owned more things than she could ever possibly use.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco tugged them to the side and they fell beside Madame Black again. “What happened while we were gone?” He asked his mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happens every few months, though I think this time she’s a bit more serious than normal, what with telling her entourage to ‘pack everything so she never has to come back to this wretched place again.’ Even after the new managers said she would be playing the countess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, really?” Draco rolled his eyes. “So much for taking Father’s warning seriously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black gave her son a look, sharp and warning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother, I, uh.” He blushed and looked away and Harry decided to save him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m aware of who Draco’s father is now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then her ice blue eyes were on him and Harry swallowed and almost stumbled. If looks could kill he would be dead by now, he was sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Madame, I would never harm Draco’s father,” he was quick to assure. “I may not understand all this just yet, but.” He raised a shoulder unsure. “Anything that hurt Draco, I wouldn’t wish it for the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sniffed. “Good.” And then she raised her voice higher, to wash over the crowd around them. “Who scorn his word, beware to those, the angel sees, the angel knows.” She gave him a significant look as they charged onto the stage and then off of it into the audience seats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have replaced me!” Lavender shouted above them all, still practically trotting out of the opera house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God we only fucking wish we had,” Draco said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Draco, language,” Madame Black chastised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother, I am a man, I can curse if I wish to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she was staring her own son down again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, sorry mother.” He hid behind Harry enough to roll his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now Draco, it’s never appropriate to curse in front of ladies, even if you are grown.” He looked Draco up and down. Yes, definitely grown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black snorted. “Yes, maybe the dear Vicomte will be a good influence on you, dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I certainly will try, madame.” He smiled at her and he saw just the smallest thawing of her gaze. He had a feeling he wouldn’t see her completely melt until he proved himself trustworthy of the secret Draco had entrusted him with, but this certainly couldn’t hurt. He felt a little glow at the thought of getting Draco’s mother to like him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please Signora we beseech you!” Both the managers called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black rolled her eyes and Draco had definitely gotten that expression from her. “This hour shall see your darkest fears, the angel sees, the angel hears.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no one really seemed to be listening to her. He turned to Draco. “Your mother helps with everything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, Vicomte, I do. As any good wife would.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry realized that he probably just should have asked Madame Black directly as he turned around, but she only looked amused more than anything. He breathed a little sigh of relief. They finally rocketed down the stairs towards the doors. Perhaps this would all be over soon?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Signora sing for us, don’t be a martyr, our star!” The managers continued to beg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Lavender continued, throwing open the doors and revealing the crowd outside. They shouted at her, fawned over her, but in front there was a man a year or two younger than Harry himself, holding out a rose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you give this to Miss Granger? Miss Granger!” Harry had to laugh at that. Lavender must be livid. Even though everyone was shouting for her save that one man, but oh, something was still about Hermione. She slammed the doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your public needs you,” Minerva said into the silence left by the slamming doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry almost groaned. Was this really going to continue on? All this groveling for one woman? It didn’t seem worth it to him. He knew some about opera and art with his upbringing of course, but he knew more about business and money being raised to take over the estate. But really, groveling over two days for one woman, who was serviceable at best in her role as lead soprano? It didn’t much seem like a good business decision. Especially if Madame Black was right and this happened every few months. There was a successor now. She could be easily replaced. It sounded cheaper to do so, and if Hermione was better than Lavender, it would more than make up for the temporary dip in sales that would account for losing Lavender’s fan base. Hermione would have a bigger one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need you too,” Albus added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you not have your precious little ingenue?” Lavender sniffed and crossed her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Signora no! The world wants you!” Both Minerva and Albus said at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they tugged her back towards the stairs, back towards the dressing room, back towards being the leading lady again. Fawning over her, extolling her virtues as prima donna. Harry had had enough. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, taking up his position from half an hour before. Draco stopped beside him and Madame Black turned, halfway up the stairs when they didn’t follow. The rest of the party went on and now it was only them and the cleaning staff getting ready for the evening performance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This happens every few months?” Harry asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It does, in various levels of seriousness, yes,” Madame Black answered. “For the last four years or so, after she entrenched herself and shored up a fan base. We haven’t heard the end of it since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the Phantom wants Hermione to take her place permanently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Draco and Madame Black nodded. “God knows, Hermione will never do this. That, and she can actually fuc--freaking sing.” Draco’s eyes flitted to his mother who frowned, but didn’t say anything about his near slip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced at Madame Black and then at Draco. “So how long is there before you have to be back for rehearsal?” He looked around at all the cleaning staff significantly. He wanted to hear about the plans the Phantom had, but servants heard everything and gossiped freely. If he were going to try and persuade the managers to actually take the Phantom seriously, or at least replace Lavender for the good of the opera house without actually bowing to the Phantom other his other conditions, well, he needed to know more. He’d only been here a day but quite frankly, he was tired of the drama already. He’d had enough of that growing up. This was supposed to be a peaceful bit of his life where he got to sponsor the arts and have actually exciting adventures, not well...whatever this was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Madame Black looked at him, a smile starting to pull at the corners of her mouth. “Go on to lunch as you planned. Draco, invite the Vicomte around for dinner.” And then she swept up the stairs once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry blinked up at the woman for a bit before she disappeared into the depths of the opera house. He didn’t quite understand what just happened, but it seemed like something good at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she might actually like you,” Draco said, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did I say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled Harry closer and then ventured towards the door. “Come on, we’re grabbing something quick outside. I think with her blessing I can afford to be a little late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stepped outside and Draco let his arm drop, but not without a smile that said he was sorry to do so. If only they could walk around arm in arm with no one thinking anything of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But really, the implication that you wanted to get rid of Lavender too, that’s what did it, darling. God knows the patron as an ally is not a bad place to start out, but also, well, you’re siding with father. She always has liked people who have liked father. She’s protective of him. And now you know, and instead of heading for the hills...you think he’s right. I’ll be surprised at dinner if she doesn’t hint that you should stick around for a good long time.” He groaned. “That will be embarrassing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry laughed, walking towards the cafe across the street. “I think it will be sweet.” He smiled at Draco. “Just like I think it’s sweet that you told her about our lunch plans and she encouraged us to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco blushed. “I was excited this morning. I’m still excited.” He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before straightening again.  “And I’m paying. I asked you to lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No buts, you get to pay when we go out somewhere that’s a lot fancier than this.” He gestured at the cafe, opening the door and holding it for Harry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that your way of asking me out again?” Harry asked quietly while slipping past him. “Before the first is even begun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry laughed. “I know a few places I’ve been meaning to try. I’d love to take you to them. That is if I survive dinner with your mother tonight. After the first date.” He shook his head as they slipped into a couple seats at a small table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, these things do tend to move rather quickly.” Draco paused at that. “Though we could take it more slowly if you wanted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need.” Harry waved Draco off. “At least not right now. I enjoy how it is going.” He paused for a moment. “Though it does help that at least some of dinner tonight will be more of a business meeting, I’m not going to lie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Harry, my mother is adept at mixing business with other things. You have no idea what’s about to happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry looked around for a second before he reached out to squeeze Draco’s hand. “Well, that’s ok, I suppose. You’ll be there. That’s all that really matters, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco looked at him for a long, long moment before the waitress interrupted them to take their order. Harry hadn’t even begun to look over the menu yet. He just threw out a standard order and hoped for the best. He’d rather not be distracted from Draco any longer than he had to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, dear, you really do know what to say to a man,” Draco finally said as the waitress bustled off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged. “For now. Just wait, sometimes I stick my foot so far into my mouth it almost returns back to where it was before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Draco laughed. “Good to know we both have similar problems. Now, enough about dinner, I want to hear more about what you want to do in Paris. Perhaps something a true native could help you with?” He sat forward eagerly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So it’s not just one more date after this you’re planning is it.” Harry leaned forward over the table too and they were so close together he could feel the heat from Draco’s body. He really should lean back, this was probably a bit too much for public consumption, but he found he didn’t much care in that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not, so tell me about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry smiled. “Ok then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa stood at the edge of the stage, her usual spot to watch the first stage rehearsal from, and frowned. This was the first one for Il Muto and she knew it would be a disaster. Several weeks of silence from Lucius and the managers seemed to think that their decision to ignore him, with no retribution meant they had the run of the place. Of course they didn’t. They would stick to their word. They would have until the show actually went on, and then the managers would find out that they weren’t so in charge of this place as they thought. But really. She rather hoped they wouldn’t make them do that. It was always such a to do. There were more important things to do than planning a rather large disruption. Perhaps she should try at least once more to convince one of the mangers that it really was best to cast Hermione as the lead. If she waited long enough through this rehearsal, Lavender would most likely provide her with a good enough reason to take to the managers and make them try to see reason again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione appeared beside her in her pageboy outfit. She smiled at the other woman and inched closer to her. They hadn’t come out about their relationship to the rest of the house, but she knew the more observant ones of the crew had their suspicions. She had never been one to get truly close with anyone at the opera house, besides Andromeda and Bellatrix. She had two close friends, Lucius, and Draco, what more could she have wanted? But then, of course, Hermione had stumbled into their lives. But that didn’t lift everyone’s opinion of her being an ice queen overnight, even if Hermione was sunshine personified at times. Eventually they would all know, but it would be a long while, even with Hermione close enough to her to brush against her side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello,” Narcissa said, taking hold of the woman’s hand. It had been a lovely month with Hermione. She’d been down to visit Lucius, spending the night with them more often than not after staying too long sitting with Lucius at the piano, or reading with her quietly. The nights where the girl wasn’t in their bed seemed to be more rare than not. Though they’d yet to do anything more than sleep. While she was enjoying this getting to know each other period, well, with Hermione in their bed most nights, the amount of sex her and Lucius had was down significantly, and even just holding Hermione’s hand now excited her more than it really should. Their first time together would be rather explosive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was neither here nor there at the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” Hermione squeezed her hand. “How is it looking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa looked at Hermione and arched an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That well already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lavender isn’t here yet, so no, not really, just the normal amount of people running around like chickens with their heads cut off for a first rehearsal. It’s almost time for someone to get run over with a set since that hasn’t happened as of yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione snorted. “Well, if that hasn’t happened, has one of the new reserve girls tripped over something or someone, trying to figure out where they’re supposed to be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that usually happens when I’m not watching. You all seem to be on your best behavior when I watch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I was to misbehave?” Hermione’s grin had a very salacious edge to it. Oh, the woman was certainly trying to be the death of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Miss Granger, I do have punishments for dancers who misbehave. But you aren’t truly a dancer in this production, are you?” And it really was a shame they weren’t somewhere more private because the fact of the matter was, with the girl wearing breeches like that, she could easily, easily, deliver a nice stinging slap to her ass to demonstrate her meaning, but alas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think anyone would get in your way if you did. You are still more in charge of me than anyone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good of you to acknowledge that now. Goodness knows Lucius knows he doesn’t truly wear the pants in our relationship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione shivered. “I wouldn’t dream of taking that title away from you. I like you in charge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why you say such things now when I can do nothing about it, is beyond me.” Narcissa clenched her legs together, thinking of being in charge of Hermione in bed, thinking of what she would do to the girl, thinking of how she would walk her through fucking Lucius, all sorts of delicious and unhelpful thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knowing look on Hermione’s face. Narcissa tilted her head to the side. There was something about that look that just screamed that Hermione knew exactly what she was doing, exactly how her continued nights sleeping chastely in their bed had affected Narcissa, exactly what goading her now was doing. She took in a slow breath. This woman was trying to make her snap, to drag her downstairs after rehearsal and take her, grabbing Lucius from his piano along the way to thoroughly debauch her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think a month is long enough, don’t you? Especially after all the years we’ve longed for each other in one way or another.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a brazen streak a mile wide, darling.” Not that she particularly minded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I didn’t, would I get anything I wanted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t say your tactics to end up with Lucius and I were so brazen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione waved her off. “I didn’t want to come between the two of you. To be where we are now, that had to come from the both of you. You very much know that. But this? Oh this, I can be brazen with. I think Lucius thinks I’m this light being who will be corrupted by him even as I speak with him, and you...I’m not sure, too young, too inexperienced, something holds you back. This needs to be me reaching out and taking what I want. And I want you both </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> badly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa growled quietly. “But your timing is perhaps the worst I’ve ever seen it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione laughed, dropping Narcissa’s hand with one last squeeze, venturing out on stage where rehearsal was actually starting to look like it would start soon. “Is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t one for large displays of emotion, especially of frustration, but right about now she could stomp around like a woman possessed and she didn’t think that anyone would blame her for it, not if they knew what Hermione had just done to her. Oh the woman was too clever. Leaving her to stew like this, it was brilliant. Narcissa would be damned if her first action after this rehearsal ended wouldn’t be finding Hermione and dragging her down to Lucius for the fucking of her life. And if the girl truly knew what she was doing, she would disappear and make Narcissa </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> for her, upping the anticipation and the headiness of success when she did find the girl. Clever as the devil and twice as pretty, Hermione Granger. Just what did she and Lucius get themselves into?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook herself and managed to bring herself back to task. She was here to both watch her dancers and make sure they actually knew what they were doing and to watch Lavender crash and burn. She wouldn’t spend the entirety of the rehearsal staring at Hermione’s backside in those breeches. She wouldn’t. She had much more self control than that. Granted most of it had been worn away in this last month, but that was beside the point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Lavender picked that moment to waltz in with her usual over dramatic flair. With the way she was shaking her head back and forth it was a miracle that her powdered wig didn’t fall off. Just how many pins did her wig maker have to use to secure it, know Lavender as he did. Overacting was the absolute understatement with that woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here now we can begin!” She called loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Still, everyone on stage did managed to calm down and ready their places. If they didn’t they’d be treated to another tantrum, and exactly none of them wanted that. They actually wanted to get out of rehearsal on time for once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, from the top,” Flitwick called in his reedy voice, and then rehearsal was off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She noted where her dancers needed fixed absently. She’d been doing the job so long it was almost second nature at this point. It allowed her to stay focused on Lavender as she rather stumbled through the stage directions, singing much like a dying animal. Rehearsal periods were never long in opera. They had to introduce new shows at a breakneck pace to keep the audience interested. It always amazed her that Lavender was able to remember them all, especially when her rehearsals looked like this. If one thing could be said for the woman it was that she did know exactly when she needed to turn it on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then of course, she hit a snag, she ran into one of the dancers, who from Narcissa’s point of view, Dean hadn’t been anywhere he wasn’t supposed to be. They had set him there earlier. There should have been more than enough room for Lavender to pass by him, but no. She counted down from three in her head silently, and right on time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amateurs, I’m surrounded by amateurs. Do you not know where you’re supposed to be? Do you not listen?” Lavender shouted at Dean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean, for his part just blinked serenely until Lavender turned her attention away to yell at everyone else, and then he pulled a face and started mocking Lavender behind her back. Narcissa snorted quietly. The boy had always had a rather apt sense of comedic timing, even if he was rather a great amount of trouble to deal with whenever he was within five feet of Seamus. How in the world those two managed to blow so many things up was beyond her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaned back, counting the seconds to see just how much rehearsal time Lavender would waste this time. It turned out to be five minutes that time, another three the next, and by the time Flitwick dismissed them all three and a half hours later, it was a good thirty minutes wasted by Lavender just on tirades against a member of the opera, who most usually hadn’t actually been doing anything wrong. Narcissa smirked to herself, a plan forming in her mind. Oh the managers didn’t much understand art, but they seemed to understand efficiency, well, at least McGonagall did, Dumbledore seemed much more inclined to flights of fancy backed up with a rather iron grip on the company. She rather doubted that anyone else saw much more than a slightly dotty old man with the way he was playing it. She would admire it, if it wasn’t getting in her way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, for this to work, she wouldn’t need to talk to him anyway. She would need to talk to McGonagall. She was the one who took care of all the finances for the house and the argument she had planned made much more sense to present to someone money minded. That and McGonagall seemed to have a higher propensity to check on rehearsals. She would know exactly what Narcissa was talking about. Now, to just find the other woman, though she had a good idea of where to check first. She headed towards McGonagall’s office, smoothing her expression out into one of genuine concern instead of rather victorious haughtiness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She found the woman exactly where she thought, seated behind her desk looking over expense reports from the looks of it. Narcissa quietly knocked on her door, standing in the doorway demurely. McGonagall looked up with a raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in Madame Black, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa appreciated the down to business attitude. She didn’t much want to spend ten minutes on pleasantries either. “I have some concerns I wish to speak of.” She frowned and looked at the open door as if that worried her. It really didn’t. Lavender could hear every single word she was planning to say and then some and she would give less than a damn about it. But appearances and needs must. “May I close the door for a moment while we speak of them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall waved to give her leave to do so. Narcissa shut the door and then walked to one of the chairs in front of the older woman’s desk and sat down carefully, perching primly on the edge of the seat, trying to look for all the world like a proper ballet mistress. People always expected beauty and grace from here even with her injured leg. She was glad it wasn’t worse or that would be a struggle on her part, especially on days like today where it ached something fierce. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, what was it you wished to speak about?” McGonagall asked again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m rather concerned with the amount of rehearsal time we end up wasting every day. I know that the staff pulls it all together well enough now, but I would imagine that our performances would be even better if we didn’t waste at least thirty minutes of practice time every day on...dramatics, as it were. I know we’re an opera house, but we’re also a professional environment, and I believe that everyone should act as such, don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall nodded. “Yes of course. The amount of vice and superstition that runs through these halls is a bit ridiculous if you ask me, even for so called artist types.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa fought the frown at that. She knew exactly what the other woman meant by those words, taking a sideswipe again at everyone fearing the Phantom, but she didn’t rise to the bait this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, vice does affect the performances too no doubt, but that would be a much harder problem to fix. Monitoring as many employees as we have would be a losing, and most likely expensive battle. The staff turnover would sky rocket, surely, and it’s hard to find good help these days, especially in the arts. But with the wasting of rehearsal time, I think there’s a much easier fix since it mostly centers on one person in the troupe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall reached up and took off her spectacles, looking at Narcissa with sharp eyes. “I’m well aware of the rather strong dislike in this house for Miss </span>
  <span>Giudicelli, but I don’t see that as a reason for any real action against her, Madame Black.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand that, Madame McGonagall, I do, but there is a reason beyond dislike that I’ve come to you with. I wouldn’t bother you with such such troubles if they were as petty as that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall waved her on. “I had hoped so considering you seem like one of the few people here that actually has some sort of head on their shoulders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, I do try.” She sat back a bit. “The first day you arrived you got a taste of what Carlotta was like. You and Monsieur Dumbledore spent how long trying to convince her to do her own job and yet still she walked out on you. Then the next morning how much longer did you have to plead again before she was convinced to come back? Almost an hour, wasn’t it? And I have no doubt that your impression from Monsieur Slughorn was this wasn’t an all together unforeseen occurrence since his first advice to you was to grovel for her return.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall’s frown grew with every word that Narcissa said. “No, I suppose it wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I admit, those were some of her bigger tantrums, it isn’t like that every day, of course, but today at rehearsal was rather typical. We were there for three and a half hours. Of that three and a half hours, a little over half an hour was Carlotta throwing a fit because someone didn’t execute the directions correctly.” She met McGonagall’s eyes directly. “Which I suppose would be at least somewhat understandable if the people that were getting everything wrong was anyone other than herself, but no, of course, in every occasion, save for a I believe one today, Carlotta was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had to stop rehearsal to announce other’s incompetence. Now, I don’t know about you Madame, but that wasn’t how I was taught to comport myself during any interaction, let alone a rehearsal. In fact, I rather think my own ballet mistress would’ve had my hide if I had, even as the star dancer of the corps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall nodded in agreement. “I believe your ballet mistress and my mother would have gotten along splendidly. I never got away with anything under that woman, even when she was nowhere near me, she somehow still knew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa smiled. “That’s the power of being a mother. I rather know what Draco is up to at all times.” And right now she suspected that he was off with the Vicomte at dinner and she suspected she wouldn’t see him until morning again since there was no performance tonight. What they got up to after dinner wasn’t worth thinking about. Her son was happy, so happy, happier than she had ever seen him, and that’s what really mattered. That, and the Vicomte was most assuredly on their side to ousting Lavender from her lead soprano spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall sighed and rubbed at her temples. “I understand what you’re saying, I do, Madame Black. I’ve seen the rehearsals myself. They could be much more efficient and in that efficiency our productions could be better than they already are.” She snorted. “Sometimes I swear it’s amazing the performances go as well as they do. I know it’s a saying that a bad dress rehearsal makes a good performance, but honestly, every single rehearsal being terrible is a bit much, especially for nerves as old as my own. But--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from scowling. She had known there was going to be a but. Still, though it was rather disappointing to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carlotta brings a rather large audience. Our finances need the money they bring, at least for this season. I believe after that, there may be room to start phasing Carlotta out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa tilted her head, considering. “You know she’s not going to allow herself to be phased out. The second you tell her she’s not the lead in a piece she’ll storm out again like she did a month ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m well aware, but if she doesn’t let herself be ousted gradually, where exactly is she going to get the money to support her rather lavish lifestyle? If she exits gracefully she’ll have our support in her endeavors to pick up employment elsewhere. If she storms off, well I don’t much care for such displays and she will be on her own. I’m sure she’ll find something, Carlotta being herself, but I highly doubt it would be as good a position as it could be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa allowed a small chuckle to escape. “Well, I admire your thinking.” She paused for a long moment, as if she was debating on what she was going to say next. “It is all a rather well devised plan, tapering off Carlotta and giving Hermione or the next lead time to build an audience, but aren’t you worried about your hand being forced?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall scoffed. “What you mean by the Phantom?” She waved the suggestion off as if it was ridiculous. “No, why ever would I fear a man who seems to think sending a flurry of notes is threatening enough to get us to do what he desires. I’ll admit, I did ask Slughorn about his relationship with the Phantom and he did say that the operas that would appear from him were some of the best sellers in recent memory, and perhaps I would pay him for that, but I’m not about to give in to a man who thinks he can run an opera house I paid dearly to obtain. I suppose I’ll miss the potential successes of the operas, but I won’t be missing my pride, Madame, and I suspect you know how closely you have to hold that to be a successful woman in this day and age, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa looked at the woman, considering. Yes, she did know exactly how hard you had to fight to find success, even in the world of opera and dance where things were a bit looser than elsewhere. She might like this woman if she weren’t in the way of all their plans. She wondered if there was any way they could use this to their advantage. There most likely was, but she would have to think about it more. To play this the wrong way would be disastrous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do understand, yes. I’ve done many a thing for spite’s sake and it has served me more often than it hasn’t. Though when it hasn’t served me, the consequences have been rather disastrous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, yes, I do know the feeling, but in this case I would rather see a bit of decreased revenue overall than have to kowtow to a man who refuses to show his face. I don’t think this unspeakable disaster will ever happen. It would hurt him just as much as it would hurt us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, this woman had too much a finger on their pulse. She supposed that’s what they got for a woman being half in charge of the opera house. Women always were that much harder to manipulate, especially smart women, and to get here, McGonagall had to be whip smart. There would be no more use in this attempt. Until she figured out another way to come at this, that this would be the end of it. Though there was one more thing to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you ever think about working with him, if he dropped the high and mighty act? Perhaps there could be the best of both worlds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall thought for a long moment. “I suppose I would have to see. If he behaved more as an employee than an overlord, and meant it, then perhaps yes. Especially if the opera he came forward with as part of the what I expect would be the peace offer was beyond amazing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It might be a pipe dream for a man to agree to such terms.” She knew Lucius would eventually, but he would be rather miffed about it for a while. Everything he did was for the betterment of the house, couldn’t they see that? That was the lecture she would hear once a day for at least a week. But it would be in their best interest overall. Quite frankly having a more amiable relationship that wasn’t so fraught and required so much scheming to make sure it didn’t fall apart might be nice. They were getting older after all, and her patience was wearing thinner. Mostly she just wanted to focus on Hermione now. It might truly be worth it. “But someone perhaps should shout the offer into the air and see if he hears. God knows it might give us all a little bit of peace and quiet around here. As much as any operahouse gets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McGonagall laughed. “I suppose I do have his address from one of his letters. What could it hurt if he’s already promised an utter disaster?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both laughed together before Narcissa stood. “Well thank you for hearing my concerns, Madame McGonagall. It is good to know that you’ve thought ahead to the future and it is a good plan. I suppose I’ll just stock up on willow bark for tea in the meantime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me know your supplier, I could use some myself.” She gestured at the papers around her and shook her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa smiled at her. “Will do.” And she left her office. Well. Now it was certainly time to find Hermione and drag her back down to the dungeon. Her talk with McGonagall certainly hadn’t distracted her from her goal before rehearsal. She was going to have her way with Hermione even if it killed her, though most likely it would kill Lucius instead. It would be such a shame to lose him, but worth it she was sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Narcissa looked all over the opera house first before she made her way towards the dormitories. The dorms had been the most likely place to check, of course, but if she were Hermione that would be the last place she would be right now. In fact she would probably be up in the rigging so she could watch Hermione scramble around trying to find her. But she’d made sure she wasn’t up there, and anywhere else. If she wasn’t in the dorms, well, she was most likely going to have to enlist Lucius’s help to find her, and there certainly would be hell to pay for that. Very pleasurable hell, but hell nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She froze on the stairs as she heard Fenrir Greyback’s voice, slimy as ever, assault her ears. “How have you girls not heard the story of the Phantom of Opera. We live here after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard gasps of anticipation. “Well tell us then,” Pansy said, a bit bored and yet still paying attention. That stupid girl could </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>be interested in Fenrir of all people. To say he was a creep of a man was putting it mildly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, it’s time to set the mood.” And then there were loud shouts, him rushing around the floor, and delighted screams from some of the girls. Narcissa felt her lips curling in disgust. What an absolute cad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously you know exactly nothing about setting the mood for a lady,” Hermione said, voice loud and clear over the screams. There were a few amused titters from the girls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa could feel the mood of the room shift even though she was still out of sight. Her muscles tensed. If that man laid one hand on Hermione he had more than a little bit of wrath coming his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you know about setting the mood, you bookworm. No man in this company wants to touch you. You think you’re too good for us. Oh new lead soprano, oh so fancy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy’s laughter was loudest of all. Hermione stomped forward, she would recognize that gate anywhere. Narcissa took a couple steps up so she could see the feet of everyone in the room. She had to know at least somewhat of what was going on, but she wasn’t about to interrupt now. Let Greyback hang himself and then she would step in. It was about time that he was sent packing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, I wouldn’t want a miserable lecher like you to touch me anyway. Have you even heard of a bath? God knows the Phantom is much preferable to your putrid breath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh ho then, you only like men uglier than the blackest sin then. That suits you. Course it does, little miss whiter than white. Someone had to soil you, didn’t they. Slept with him, have you? Tell us, was it good? I can’t imagine someone cursed by the devil doesn’t know how to have some good sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa heard the crack of a slap and she smiled and started to walk slowly up the rest of the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If anyone here is dirtier than the blackest sin, it’s you Greyback. What has the Phantom done to you, or any of the rest of you, to merit calling him a devil. Are you scared of a few notes? Are you that much of a coward? At least the Phantom has morals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morals, eh? Is that what gets you off? Or is it the fact that he has yellow parchment for skin or a great black hole for a nose that never grew? Is that what you like in a man, pretty princess?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least I don’t have to pay anyone for sex or take them by force, and neither by that token, would the Phantom. Tell me, how does it feel to be so undesirable?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa reached the top of the stairs and turned to see the scene before her. Hermione was only a foot or so away from Greyback, teeth bared and furious, defending her love. Oh god, if Narcissa hadn’t been coming to drag Hermione back to their rooms, she would be now, looking like an avenging angel, challenging the scourge of the opera house like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he reached out and pushed her down and Narcissa was going to murder him. It was as simple as that. She strode forward as Greyback resumed his little act now that Hermione was temporarily out of the way..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be always on your guard or he will catch you with his magical lasso.” He pulled out a noose and dangled it in front of Hermione. “Won’t he love? Did he use this on you while you were fucking? I bet he did, I bet you liked it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was it. She stepped in front of him and jerked the noose from his hands. “Those who speak of what they know, find too late that prudent silence is wise.” She looked every girl in the eye as she spoke before turning back to Greyback. “Fenrir Greyback hold your tongue.” And then she slapped his other cheek, hard enough to send him stumbling. If he thought there wouldn’t be consequences to touching Hermione like that, he would be sorely mistaken. She looped the noose around his neck. “Keep your hands at the level of your eyes!” And then she tightened it enough that she was sure he couldn’t breathe. He struggled, pulling at her hands, trying to make her let go, but she was far, far too furious for that. She leaned forward enough so that her voice wouldn’t carry to anyone else in the room. “Touch Miss Granger again like that, and you won’t see morning, do you understand?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were bulging out, but he had enough presence of mind to nod. Narcissa smiled at him, and kept holding on to the noose until his eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted. Only then did she loosen the noose and turned around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know all of you have much better things to be doing than listening to a fool like this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girls went scurrying away without so much as a second glance to Narcissa. Good. The more they feared her the better their rehearsals would be for a good long while anyway. Nothing got performance out of the corps like a bit of fear mixed in with respect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She bent down and offered Hermione a hand up. “Are you ok, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione took her hand and pulled herself up easily. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing hard. Her cheeks were flushed and her gaze kept dropping to Narcissa’s mouth. Narcissa smirked at her, stepping further into the woman’s personal space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See something you like, dear?” She practically purred into her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just defended me. You slapped him so hard he almost fell over and then choked him out for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did. I would do it again.” Quite frankly next time she might just toss him down the stairs and hope he broke his neck, but that was beside the point right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s supposed to be this hot, but god, Narcissa,” she whined, desperate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose it is turnabout for earlier. But, if you must know, I was coming here to get you and take you to him. I certainly want to have my way with you tonight. Especially after all this. If my defending you was hot, you defending him has me in the same way.” She licked her lips. Defending Lucius had been her duty for as long as she could remember, and now, having someone to share it with, who wanted to share it with her? It was completely intoxicating. The warmth in the pit of her stomach was an inferno and she had a feeling that they weren’t going to make it all the way down to their home before someone was pinned up against the wall for a bit. Oh but it wouldn’t go past a heated kiss, no for more they would wait until they got to Lucius. He needed to be there for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank god, I’m so glad because if you weren’t, I’m sure I would wake up the whole dorm touching myself tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa shivered. “Do you touch yourself to thoughts of us often, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione whimpered and nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you combust to know I do the same?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whimpering got louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s time we made our way downstairs then, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were the sounds of stirring behind them. Narcissa turned, pushing Hermione behind her as Greyback sat up, groggy until he saw Narcissa. His eyes narrowed and he pushed himself to his feet. Narcissa gripped her cane hard. She would beat him to death with it if he made one wrong move. She was much beyond caring at that point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You bitches, the both of you. I’ll get my fucking revenge on the both of you, just you wait and fucking see!” And then he stomped from the room and down the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa snorted. “I would like to see you try, Greyback. You ineffectual useless waste of space of a man. He’ll have you dead before you even so much as make one step in my direction.” If she didn’t kill him first, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione shuddered against her back. “Probably still shouldn’t be hot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa laughed and turned again, taking Hermione into her arms and kissing the woman long and deep. It might have been a mistake because now all she wanted was to have her way with Hermione here and now, but she managed to pull back, both of them panting. “Come, I know a shortcut to the usual way. I don’t take it most of the time because it is tight in some places, but right now, I think not being able to be side by side might be a blessing for us. We have to get downstairs before I can have my way with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, woman,” Hermione groaned, tugging on her hand towards the stairs. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa laughed and followed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione thought that she had never made it down to their rooms as fast as they did now. She was practically out of breath by the time they finally emerged from the passage into one of the smaller hallways of their home. Even slowed down by Narcissa’s bad leg, they had practically run there. And when they weren’t running, Narcissa had pinned her against the wall and kissed her until there was no air left in her lungs and she’d forgotten to breathe. If she had known that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was how Narcissa would react to a bit of teasing and flirting before going on stage she would have done it ages ago. Well, perhaps not ages, but she’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>aching</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the both of them for at least the last two weeks, been hoping they would make a move, all those times she’d stayed over, all those times she’d ended up sleeping beside them, she had wished and hoped, but no it hadn’t happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now it definitely was because Narcissa’s hands on her had </span>
  <em>
    <span>intent</span>
  </em>
  <span>, skirting just around where Hermione was begging to be touched, resting on her lower back but never grabbing her ass, caressing her sides but never touching her breasts, and a knee that slipped dangerously close to Hermione’s core, but before she could even think to press down, Narcissa had stepped back. It had been delightful torment and she was soaked between her thighs, and even more desperate than before. They needed to collect Lucius and then hurry on to bed or she was going to burn up alive right where she was standing, or fall to her knees on the hard stone and beg until she was catatonic. Whatever suited the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The soft notes of a violin drifted down the hall. Lucius was where he almost always was when he was waiting for them to return from the world above after a hard day’s work. There was no real surprise there, but that did increase the difficulty of just dragging him down the hall to the bedroom. When he was stuck on a musical problem, he was stuck. Though Hermione wondered just how stuck he would be when confronted with both her and Narcissa kissing and shedding clothes in front of him. It almost sounded like a challenge and she was never one to back down from a challenge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hurried down the hall towards the music room, Narcissa at her heels. “How long do you think it will take us to persuade him to set the music aside?” She asked, breathless still. Would she ever breathe normally again? She thought it would be worth it if she didn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not long,” Narcissa said, voice dark and wanting in a way that made Hermione’s knees weak. “I’ve been doing this for many years. I know exactly how to distract him when I want attention.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god,” Hermione whimpered. Perhaps it was a bit embarrassing to be reduced to whimpers , but she’d long since past the point of caring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God will have nothing to do with it, I assure you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Hermione actually had to catch herself this time before she hit the ground as her knees gave way. Strong hands flashed out to grab her upper arms, holding her up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful, Miss Granger, we wouldn’t want our star to injure herself, now would we?” Narcissa whispered into Hermione’s ear, sending up goosebumps across her entire body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop doing things like that and maybe I won’t hurt myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, soon we’ll be by a very soft surface. You don’t have to keep yourself upright for long. Because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon. Not until both you, and I, and Lucius are </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely</span>
  </em>
  <span> sated in every way imaginable.” She nibbled on Hermione’s earlobe and now her hands really were the only thing holding Hermione up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa,” Hermione whined. “Unless you want to take me right here in the hallway, give me at least a minute’s rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa hummed, contemplating. “Oh, that won’t do for our first time, but I’m sure this hallway will be christened again by us, or you and Lucius, or all three of us. It has seen some action before.” She kissed down Hermione’s neck, never staying in one place for long, just driving Hermione up the wall. “Did I ever tell you that the first night Lucius heard you sing I was headed down here to get him to fuck me? I had been wanting him all day. He ran into me in the hallway as I was coming down. You distracted him, hearing you sing, it was like you were the angel, even though he was convinced he should try and imitate one to get you to agree with lessons. I left him to his business, I knew he would be down here eventually. I thought about just going to bed and waiting for him, perhaps touching myself to keep the edge off, but I didn’t. I stayed right here and </span>
  <em>
    <span>waited</span>
  </em>
  <span> for him. He fucked me against the wall right over there when he got back. He was so excited. Oh Hermione, he’ll be over the moon tonight to have you. He won’t know where to touch first. He’ll be like a child in a sweet shop. But I’ll tell him where to touch. I’ll tell you where to touch him. And I’ll be watching as you both come apart for the first time together, I’ll be touching myself and screaming out with you as you both come. It will be truly wonderful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now Hermione didn’t even have any words. How was she supposed to after that? Her mouth was too dry to speak anyway. So she just moaned and tried not to faint right then and there, or perhaps, more embarrassingly, come untouched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa pulled her up so she finally stood straight again. “Come now, darling, Lucius is waiting, though he doesn’t much know it yet.” She stepped past Hermione and continued down the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione had no choice but to follow her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa swept into Lucius’s music room like a silent storm, walking to him with pent up purpose. Hermione trailed her like a lingering rain, not quite sure where to go, but knowing where she wanted to be. And Lucius, oh Lucius looked up at them and his eyes widened, darting back and forth between Narcissa and Hermione, not knowing where to land. He looked like a man about to be overtaken by a tidal wave, looking at his own demise, and waiting for it to wash over him, accepting his fate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa?” He asked, putting the violin aside carefully, only taking his eyes off of them for a second to make sure it found its home on its stand before glancing back at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius.” Narcissa stepped up to him, caressing his face and looking hungrily at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re giving me the look.” He looked at Hermione who had stopped only six inches or so from Narcissa’s  back. There were so many things she could do next, the choices overwhelmed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I very much am, yes,” Narcissa purred, setting her hands on Lucius’s chest, caressing down his body slowly. “Our dear Hermione issued me a challenge earlier. She flirted with me, teased me, practically begged me to fuck her, and then she just flounced off to rehearsal. I can’t allow that to stand, do you agree, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just nodded mutely, apparently too overwhelmed for words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t think so either.” She leaned up to whisper in his ear, and even from as close as she was, Hermione couldn’t hear what she was saying to him. The thought of how many, many things it could be was driving her wild. She rubbed her thighs together, hoping to get some pressure where she needed it, some relief, but it wasn't enough and just frustrated her more if anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius just nodded again before going over to his stacks of music folders, digging out one, and handing it over to Narcissa. She smiled at him warmly, lovingly, before turning to arrange the music. Hermione looked between them again, confused. She thought they were going to have trouble pulling Lucius away from the music, but he had readily put his violin aside. Now it was Narcissa instigating a song? She looked at Narcissa, desperation in her eyes, but Narcissa just smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” she mouthed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius walked towards her, taking her hands gently. “While you and Narcissa have been at rehearsal, I found inspiration for another song.” He blushed lightly. “What started out as somewhat of an exercise to distract myself from our first time together, turned rather more into, well…” he trailed off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Hermione breathed. Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s more of a seduction leading up to our first time. I thought it appropriate,” Narcissa said, starting to play a gentle, lilting melody. Lucius took another step forward and put his hand on her waist, grabbing her hand and gently tugging her into a very close embrace for dancing. Hermione breathed him in, a hint of subdued cologne, the smell of freshly laundered clothing, a touch of sweat. She melted against him, tucking her face into his neck as he started to sway them gently around the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Darkness stirs and wakes imagination</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Silently the senses abandon their defenses”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand on her waist was drifting now, caressing up and down her side, avoiding the full swell of her breast just as Narcissa had earlier. She wanted to scream, she wanted to grab his hand and put it where she desperately wanted it. But she didn’t. That would require pulling back from him, grabbing his hand, breaking this moment, and she didn’t want to do that, much as she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>aching</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be touched. But if he could play that game, so could she. She drug her hand down from his shoulder, caressing, tracing lines of muscle, feeling them move under her hand, twitching and fluttering as he responded to her touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Turn your face away from the garish light of day</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And listen to the music of the night”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She listened to his heartbeat speed up underneath her ear as she slipped her arm under his, to start caressing his back. Without his thick cape on, in just a collared shirt, she could feel everything. This was the body of a man who could hold her up against as wall as he was fucking her and only break the slightest of sweats. She moaned into his chest at the image. His hand finally stopped caressing her side and slid lower and lower until he was cupping her ass through her skirt. He squeezed gently and her legs turned to jello once more, but he caught her with ease, pressing her against him. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was hard against her already. How was she supposed to last through this torture?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And you'll live as you've never lived before”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The piano accompaniment stopped and a second later, Narcissa was pressed into her, sandwiching her firmly between them. Oh, it was just like the first time they had all kissed. Except this time, this time she was going to make love to them both. She mewled, bunching her hands in Lucius’s shirt. She felt out of control. She felt free. She felt a vast unending ocean of desire that the two of them were feeding at an alarming rate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiss her Lucius,” Narcissa commanded, softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Lucius obeyed, kissing Hermione as Narcissa took up the melody singing, clear and beautiful as Hermione was overwhelmed with the taste of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Softly, deftly, music shall surround you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Feel it, hear it closing in around you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In this darkness which you know you cannot fight</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The darkness of the music of the night”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt Narcissa’s hands on top of Lucius’s, guiding them, running them over her ass, squeezing harder than Lucius had himself, then moving on, caressing her waist gently, almost tickling her through her dress, working their way up her sides until finally, finally they were touching the sides of her breasts in full. Hermione stepped back just enough for them to be able to touch her fully and she wasn’t disappointed. In the next second Lucius’s controlled hands were on her, squeezing gently, bringing her nipples to an even harder peak. She moaned into the kiss, her mouth being completely ravished by him. His tongue was even more clever in this than it was singing. She wondered what it would be like in other places. A shiver tore through her and she felt Narcissa still against her back, pausing perhaps a moment longer than she should before she went on to the next verse. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let your soul take you where you long to be</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Only then can you belong to us”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa stepped back, and in a second Hermione was turned around to face her, leaning heavily against Lucius still to keep herself upright. Lucius kept his fingers busy, slipping under her bodice, caressing her skin against skin now. She could feel the calluses from all the instruments he played, scratching against her in contrast to the rest of the smooth skin on his hands. She threw her head back into his chest as he pinched a nipple. It was too much. The feeling shot directly to her clit and she was half a second from coming from no more than this. How in the world had these two managed to work her up so thoroughly?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More, please more,” she cried out as Lucius continued to caress and pinch and pull and the heat in her lower stomach grew, and grew, and tightened, concentrating. She was so close. So close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa stepped back in, capturing her mouth again with brutal efficiency. Taking everything and then giving it back in kind. Her hands fell on Hermione’s waist for one lingering second before they went lower, lower, until she was cupping Hermione through her skirts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Floating, falling, sweet intoxication</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To the power of the music that I write</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The power of the music of the night”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius took up singing again. Everything was so hard to keep track of, she barely noticed. But it had to be him singing since Narcissa was kissing her so well. The other woman was drawing up her skirts with her free hand, still keeping pressing on Hermione’s center, building and building the pressure inside her. She was going to be blown apart at the seams if something didn’t happen soon. But with the way Narcissa was pulling up her skirts, oh god, that meant something </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to happen soon. She didn’t know if she was ready for it, but she was long past ready too. How was she supposed to reconcile any of this? How was a human supposed to handle being sandwiched between two of the most beautiful people on the planet? She rather supposed they weren’t, and yet there was still no place she would rather be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Hermione begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa pulled back, smiling against Hermione’s lips. Her hand finally found its way under her skirts, slipping into her bloomers with ease and then it was skin against skin and Narcissa’s finger stroked between wet flesh, finding her clit with ease and Hermione screamed loud enough that it echoed down the hall as she came, Lucius pinching her nipple again at the exact right moment to send her even higher. She arched into them, hands closing hard on Narcissa’s waist just to have something to anchor herself as she broke apart and reformed. Oh dear god above, if she hadn’t been in love with these two before, she was now. How could she not be when they had made her felt like this? She would do anything to return the favor.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You alone can make my song take flight</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Help me make the music of the night”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius finished singing softly, practically whispering the words into Hermione’s hair as he slipped his hands from bodice and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her up more firmly. Narcissa pulled her hand from beneath Hermione’s skirts, fingers glistening in the candlelight. She licked her lips hungrily and held them up so Lucius could see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think our darling might be a bit excited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione felt Lucius’s hips stutter against her, grinding him into her lower back. He huffed out a quiet breath before managing to still himself. And even though she’d just come harder than she had ever managed herself in stolen moments alone in the dorms, suddenly all she wanted was for Lucius to be inside her. She tested her legs out for a moment, seeing if they would take her weight again. They held for now, and she pressed back into him, grinding on him, feeling the moan deep in his chest that never managed to quite see the light of day, and she felt more powerful than she had ever felt before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Narcissa took her wet fingers into her mouth and licked them off carefully, making sure she missed no iota of wetness, humming all the while. Hermione’s legs went right back to being jelly. Except now Lucius seemed a bit unsteady behind her too. They really needed to get to a bed before all of them fell down onto the floor. With the stone it wouldn’t be a very soft landing, and it would be a shame if their activities were interrupted because of an injury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius, she tastes so wonderful. You simply must try her later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione whimpered, thinking of Lucius’s head between her thighs, licking with abandon. “Bedroom, please, I don’t think I can stay upright any longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she was literally being swept off her feet as Lucius picked her up, carrying her bridal style. Narcissa smirked at them both, looking them over as if they were a rather tasty tableau. Hermione’s arms circled Lucius’s neck and she tucked herself against him. If she kept looking at Narcissa looking like that, she was going to lose her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good thinking, darling, now come along.” She turned and flounced from the room. Lucius followed behind her on steady feet, not showing any strain for holding Hermione up. God, she’d been right about just how physically fit he was. It wasn’t doing anything for just how turned on she was at the moment. With a man as strong as him, oh there were so many possibilities that she could think of, and she had such limited knowledge of the subject, only what’d she’d overheard in the dorms, nothing from personal experience. She was sure between the three of them they could find a great deal of new positions to try that would bring them all to the peak over and over and over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Set her on the bed and strip her,” Narcissa commanded once they were in their bedroom. Her hands went to the ties on her own skirt and she started shedding her clothes slowly. Hermione couldn’t tear her eyes away from the other woman even as Lucius set her down and carefully undressed her, piece by piece. Narcissa looked back at Hermione, smiling as she dropped her skirt to the floor. She slipped off her petticoat with ease, dropping it to the floor to lie with her skirts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s beautiful, I know,” Lucius, whispered in her ear, slipping Hermione’s chemise above her head. She was only in her bloomers now. He had been remarkably efficient. She looked up at him, with wide eyes, shivering in the bit of chill always present this deep in the tunnels. “You’re resplendent too.” His hands smoothed over her body slowly, leaving nowhere untouched until his fingers slipped into the waistband of her bloomers and pulled. She helped him, lifting her hips off the bed and then she was totally naked before the both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up to meet Narcissa’s eyes again, watching the other woman take her in, eyes wide, in awe. She dropped the stocking she was holding to the floor, coming over to look at Hermione more closely, only left her in chemise, the fabric almost see through. Hermione could see her every curve and it just made her desperately want to see her without any clothing at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s hand reached out, caressing Hermione gently. “You’re right, darling, resplendent is exactly the right word.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione swallowed hard, shivering again but this time not from the cold, but from want. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s gaze met hers again. “Would you like to return the favor to our dear, Lucius?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione was up on her knees on the bed in an instant. “I most certainly would.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful, get to it then. I’m sure he’ll be much indebted to you for the freedom. And so will I. I admit, clothing only hints at just how shapely his ass is. I do so love to look at it whenever possible.” She pushed herself up onto tiptoes to kiss Lucius’s cheek, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down his neck before biting the junction of his shoulder and neck lightly and stepping back. Fuck, that was too hot. She needed to get Lucius out of his clothes and on the bed now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, opening them one by one slowly. She could rush, but it would make her clumsy and ultimately slow her down. No, this was a game of slow and steady winning the race. And with every new inch of skin she revealed she dropped a kiss to the  midline of his chest, lowering herself downward as she went until her last kiss was placed above his belt buckle. She could smell him here already, heady, musky, warm, and very, very turned on from the tent in his pants. She sat up again, pushing the shirt from his shoulders and then off onto the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked him over, his chest defined, his abs twitched, the beginning of a v leading down into his trousers, pointing her towards delicious things. Hermione reached out and traced the muscles lightly. Lucius’s breath rushed out, arm darting out to hold himself up on the bed as she kept up her touching. She reached his nipple and pinched and he gasped, leaning forward, hand on the bed gripping the blankets hard. She smirked. So that was a sensitive area, huh. Oh she would remember that for later. But for now, she had other things to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her hands finally found his belt, undoing the buckle slowly, pulling it from the loops, and dropping it on the floor. She slipped a finger under the waistband of his pants and just left it there, teasing, taunting, as she leaned forward again and nipped at his chest, leaving little barely there bites across his skin, driving him up the wall from the little groans and grunts he made.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Narcissa was at the edge of the bed, now fully naked. She reached out to Hermione, setting her hand on her shoulder and pushing her back gently. “Now, now, teasing is for other times. Take off his pants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione was frozen, looking at the other woman. She had said that Hermione was the angel earlier, but she was wrong. Narcissa herself was the angel, blonde hair now loose and falling down her back, smooth skin and rosy nipples now bared to Hermione’s eyes. She wanted to reach out and touch her, but then Narcissa’s hands were on her own, guiding her to the buttons on Lucius’s trousers, helping her undo them one by one, and if that wasn’t all the more arousing, Hermione would be damned. Quite frankly, she would be damned anyway in the eyes of almost everyone in France, participating in this act, but she couldn’t care less. She loved these two and fuck what anyone else thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And fuck, when Lucius’s trousers fell to the floor, she gasped. He was big. Or at least she definitely thought he was considering. How was it going to fit inside her? And yet even as she didn’t know the answer, she desperately wanted it anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touch it,” Narcissa whispered into her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione obeyed, reaching down with gentle fingertips and caressing it. It jumped under her touch and Lucius moaned. Hermione’s mouth was dry. Oh. Oh god. She firmed her touches, stroking from head to root with her fingertips a few times before wrapping her whole hand around him and squeezing gently. Warm liquid oozed from the tip, coating her hand, letting her touch glide that much more easily. She experimented, seeing what sorts of touches would get the biggest reaction from Lucius, hard or light, twisting her hand or not, until Narcissa stopped her once more. Lucius groaned in disappointment and she patted his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet, darling. You can make him come like that another day. But tonight.” Narcissa looked them both over carefully. “Oh, what to do tonight.” Her eyes met Lucius’s and they communicated for a moment silently before Lucius climbed onto the bed and turned onto his back. Hermione had no real clue how he’d known to do that from a look. Perhaps she would figure it out in time. Narcissa smiled in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful, Lucius, wonderful.” She stepped in front of Hermione, tilting her chin up to kiss her for a few moments. Narcissa’s hands on her skin were different from Lucius’s softer, smaller, but no less arousing. They glided around, never touching any one area long, just mapping her skin for later, she thought. She pulled back from the kiss, eyes blown wide, face flushed. “I’m going to teach you how to ride him, darling. Does that sound amenable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione looked back at Lucius and then to Narcissa again, nodding quickly. Oh god, she’d heard about fucking a man like that, being in control of the pace, of the pleasure. It wasn’t something she expected from her first time, but oh did she want it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Lucius loves being ridden. It drives him absolutely wild. You’re going to ride him until he comes and while he’s recovering, I’m going to have my way with you. I haven’t yet decided just what I’m going to do with you.” Her fingers traced down Hermione’s neck lightly until she was circling a hard nipple with one finger, contemplating. “But, there’s still plenty of time for ideas. And who knows, I might just get an idea watching you astride his cock. Now.” She pinched the nipple she’d been circling. “Up onto the bed, dear. We have things to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I qualify as a thing,” Lucius joked, a bit weakly as he watched Hermione crawl toward him with desperate eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to draw it out, Luicus?” Narcissa asked, moving on the bed behind Hermione. “Because you know what I meant. And if you want to be clever in bed, you’ll have to do better than that to be rewarded.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione trembled at the word rewarded. She could certainly imagine what the reward would be, another orgasm, perhaps even better than the one she’d had earlier after barely being touched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t worry, Hermione, you’ll be rewarded no matter what.” Narcissa’s hand caressed her back from shoulder to ass, squeezing lightly. “It would be discourteous to do otherwise for our first time.” She slipped forward again to whisper in Hermione’s ear. “But, if perhaps, you would like to experiment with such things later, then by all means, we can do that later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione whimpered and nodded. “I want to do everything with the both of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Miss Granger, how can you be so very perfect?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s an angel,” Lucius husked, looking up at the picture of Hermione with Narcissa hovering behind her with wide eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That she is.” Her hands landed on Hermione’s hips. “Now, darling, I think it’s time you sank down on Lucius’s cock, don’t you?” She pushed her forward gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione crawled over Lucius, throwing her leg over him, pausing for a moment to kiss him before sitting up again. Narcissa pushed her down until she was kneeling on him, his cock nestled in between her lips. They both gasped at the feeling, Lucius bucking his hips up, though he didn’t go very far with her weight on top of him, but it was enough to move her just the slightest bit backward, the tip of his cock rubbing against her clit, sending delicious sparks through her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it, darling, grind against him, let the anticipation build.” Narcissa pressed against Hermione’s back, urging her forward and them pulling her back. Hermione felt like putty in her arms, following her every whim, moving to her desires, feeling herself climb higher and higher. She leaned her head back against Narcissa’s shoulder, smelling the citrus notes of her perfume, the heady scent adding another layer to her ecstasy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa,” she moaned. And then Lucius’s hands were overtop Narcissa’s trying to lift her up. She opened his eyes to look at him, almost frantic with the need to fuck her. She felt a rush of wetness gush onto him, her insides clenching. Oh, she needed him in her, but Narcissa hadn’t said so yet. And right now, following Narcissa’s lead just felt right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, I need,” Lucius managed to breathe out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet, dear heart. I know you can hold on longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius shook his head. “No, wanted her too long. Can’t last this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you will.” And Narcissa drove Hermione forward faster. The friction was almost enough again. She just needed a little bit more. Her hand came up to pinch at her own nipples and while it wasn’t nearly as wonderful as Lucius doing so earlier, it still felt wonderful. She moaned, closing her eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you close again, Hermione? Do you need to come?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she said in a strained whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa pushed Hermione’s hands out of the way, twisting and pulling her nipples in a way Hermione hadn’t managed to do. The sparks of pleasure built as her hips kept moving, guided by Narcissa’s other hand, still on her hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck, she’s exquisite like this,” Lucius said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes,” Narcissa breathed. “Imagine, we get to see her come undone like this for as long as we live.” She kissed the side of Hermione’s head. “There’s no way we’re letting you go after this, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Lucius agreed, squeezing her hips as emphasis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t, please never let me go.” Hermione’s voice was a shrill cry as she finally broke again, trembling in Narcissa’s arms, hips slowing but never stopping at her direction until she put her hand on Narcissa’s and squeezed, a silent plea to stop. Narcissa let go and the Hermione was crashing forward on Lucius’s chest. “Sorry, need a minute to catch my breath.” And to make sure she wasn’t about to float into space from how light she felt, but that was beside the point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to apologize. If anything, it’s a compliment,” Narcissa said, moving from behind Hermione to crawl up the bed. She laid down beside Lucius, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair, already messy and a bit tangled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione watched them idly from her place on Lucius’s chest. They looked perfect together, two blonde angels, beautiful and lovely. She snuggled down into Lucius further, sighing. Despite being mostly muscle, laying on Lucius was comfortable, more comfortable than she could ever remember being. Though part of that could be the two orgasms she’d managed to have already, and the night had barely even begun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched them as Narcissa’s hands tightened in Lucius’s hair and she drew him into a deep kiss. Hermione felt each one of Lucius’s moans, heard every miniscule groan under her ear as Narcissa kissed him hard. She reached out, pinching Lucius’s nipple, and the resulting groan was loud enough that Narcissa pulled back to look at Hermione, see where her hand was, and smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes, he’s so very sensitive there. I’ve gotten him to come just from that. Granted, he was very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> worked up before that, but.” She went back to kissing him, leaving Hermione to imagine just what had happened to work Lucius into such a fever pitch. Perhaps they could do it again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius’s hands started to caress Narcissa, running over her, drawing gasps out of her with every touch. He obviously knew exactly where to touch to get a reaction, knew every sensitive spot and then some. She felt her body warming again watching them. They were so perfect together, it was obvious, but also they wanted her, they wanted her to gain this level of knowledge, to be perfect with them, to spend a thousand and more night like this twisted together until they were all satisfied and sleepy before curling up together and passing out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But right now she certainly wasn’t near passing out. In fact, quite the opposite. She pushed herself up again, groaning at the feeling of Lucius slipping and sliding against her again. She twitched a bit, an aftershock rolling over her, but she was definitely ready to go again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa pulled back from their kiss and smiled up at her. “I think someone is ready for the main event, dear heart,” she stage-whispered to Lucius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not just her.” He bucked his hips again, moving Hermione just enough to send them both gasping again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, who am I to prevent that.” Narcissa got up and circled around Lucius against until she was behind Hermione once more. “Lift up then, darling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione lifted herself up off of Lucius, praying that her thigh muscles would hold her. Lucius jumped below her, grunting, and she heard soft wet sounds. Hermione looked down her body to see Narcissa’s hand stroking Lucius gently, the job made easy by Hermione’s own wetness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sink down just a bit,” she instructed and Hermione did so, gasping as she trailed the head of Lucius’s cock through her folds again. “Now, slowly take him in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sank down slowly, feeling Lucius sink inside her, stretching her, filling her in a way she’d never been filled before. She cried out, overwhelmed by the feeling, but she kept her pace up, slowly, slowly impaling herself on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How does it feel?” Narcissa asked, whispering in her ear, distracting her from the slight burn that was flowing through her. She couldn’t stop, wouldn’t, but a distraction was welcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So good. Didn’t know it would feel this good.” She gasped at a larger twinge of pain but that passed in an instant. So she was officially no longer a virgin anymore. She was surprised that had been an issue at all considering she’d heard the other dancers gossip about their own first times. Most hadn’t had a maidenhead to tear, their lives as dancers and all their training taking care of it long before they had ever slept with someone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s your first?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded. “Wasn’t interested in anybody before I was seventeen and then after that, I met him, and well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a virgin?” Lucius asked, a bit distressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione didn’t see the point of arguing that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had been</span>
  </em>
  <span> a virgin and now was decidedly not. Semantics at this point that most assuredly wouldn’t wipe that worried look off of Lucius’s face. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa tucked her face into Hermione’s neck, gasping in a breath. “Oh, I know that shouldn’t mean anything, it shouldn’t. I’ve always detested men for thinking so and yet.” She shivered. “And yet it’s intoxicating knowing we’re your first. You’re all ours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn't have it any other way.” Hermione’s hips finally met Lucius’s and she sighed, letting herself rest and get used to the stretch. She looked Lucius in the eye. “I’ve only wanted you since I was seventeen. This is a dream come true for me. And if you, for a second, think that I should have had someone else for my first that wasn’t a monster, I’ll remind you, Lucius, that you aren’t a monster. You have never been a monster and you never will be. You are a man, a wonderful, loving man and I love you, truly and deeply. This has been more than I would’ve ever gotten from some teenaged stagehand idiot from the opera house. This is everything I want. I only ever wanted it to be you and Narcissa. I keep saying it from here until eternity if I need to.” She leaned forward to kiss him thoroughly, feeling him shift inside her as she did so, drawing a moan from her. Their lips met and for a second he still seemed stiff, but then her words seemed to finally register and he melted into the kiss, kissing her as if she was the last woman on earth. She could get used to being kissed like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat back up after a long minute, used to the feeling of him inside her now. Hermione needed to move right this instant, she could feel the need building up inside of her once again. Narcissa’s hands fell right back to Hermione’s hips an instant later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, teaching you how to ride him should be easy enough. Just listen to everything I say, Miss Granger, and you’ll be just fine.” Narcissa bit down on Hermione’s shoulder, sending arcs of pained pleasure through her. She hadn’t even known such a thing existed, but she wanted more of it whenever she could. Oh, she had so much to explore with the two of them, she was so excited, but she couldn’t be distracted by that now, oh no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s hands guided her up slowly and then back down, establishing a steady pace. Hermione writhed at the feeling of Lucius slipping in and out of her. It was a devastating emptiness when he wasn’t inside her, it was an overwhelming stretch when he was. She needed both to stay sane and what's more, as her pleasure started to mount, she needed it faster, but Narcissa still guided her at perhaps the slowest pace known to man. She whined, perhaps a bit too far gone to convey with words what she really needed, but Narcissa just chuckled in her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what you want, it’s the same thing he wants as well, I’m sure, but not yet. This should last more than a few minutes, don’t you think? After all, there is no time like the first.” She laughed again. “My first time was also with Lucius, but we were both teenagers. I’m sure it was much more like you implied would happen with a teenaged stagehand than this. It was wonderful, but isn’t love wanting better than what you had for those you care for? I want you to remember this night for the rest of your life, and perhaps even in the next.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione groaned at the words and the continued slow pace. Narcissa’s mouth was going to be the death of her, she was sure. Perhaps if it was just going slow, she could handle it, but with Narcissa whispering to her like that? Oh, it was too much and not enough and so very conflicting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa,” she moaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to such things,” Lucius panted out. “She’s just as controlling in bed as she is in the studio.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not true,” Narcissa replied. “In bed I will compromise, in the studio I certainly won’t. It’s not like any of my students are ever in charge of class, now is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione couldn’t help but picture an image of her in charge of Narcissa in bed and she groaned, dropping her chin to her chest and snapping her eyes shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Would you like that, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded. “Sometimes? I like this too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that can be arranged, certainly.” Narcissa’s hands finally started to pick up the pace. “Allowing you and Lucius to team up against me sounds like it would have </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious </span>
  </em>
  <span>repercussions.” One of her hands slipped from Hermione’s hips, the other one holding steady, still guiding her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Silk ropes?” Lucius had a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the fact that he wasn’t the one doing any of the work. Hermione wondered just how hard he was concentrating to keep himself from coming and that sent another wave of pleasure through her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I think that would be lovely, but I’m sure two of you could get more creative than that.” Narcissa’s breath caught in the middle of her sentence. Hermione wondered just where her other hand had went. Was Narcissa touching herself while guiding her on Lucius? Another delicious wave of pleasure rocketed through her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa coaxed her to going faster, finally at a pace that Hermione agreed with. She slammed herself up and down without a care, chasing yet another orgasm with her entire being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bent over the piano,” Hermione gasped out between thrusts. “Hands tied behind her back. Naked, you playing, feeling the vibrations against her skin while I fuck her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that is starting to get there,” Narcissa teased. Hermione could hear her now, wet sounds of fingers moving against flesh, quickly from the sounds of it. She wondered just how close Narcissa was. She was building higher and higher, but she wasn’t quite there yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Narcissa urged her faster still. Her legs were starting to get tired, but it didn’t matter. She would keep going at Narcissa’s urging until she came or her muscles completely gave out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius?” Narcissa asked, voice husky now and breathless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” He managed. He didn’t seem to be capable of more than that, as focused as he appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How close are you to losing control?” Hermione felt herself clench at that. Oh, she was going to manage to make him lose control? Oh god.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well then.” She pushed Hermione just a little faster, pressing now fully into Hermione’s back, bouncing up and down with her. She could feel the other woman’s hand touching herself, fucking herself loud enough that Hermione could hear it clearly. She had to be sopping wet. Her other hand slipped forward until it found Hermione’s clit and started to stroke. Golden arcs of light played behind Hermione’s eyelids each time she blinked. Oh fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Close!” She screamed. It hit her like a locomotive, she had been building up slowly, but the second Narcissa’s fingers found her, she was on the edge in an instant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so am I darling, will you please come with me?” Narcissa asked, panting, and it was perhaps the most attractive thing Hermione had heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, oh god yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt Narcissa shudder hard behind her, felt her fingers spasm against her clit, and that sent Hermione off the deep end, screaming loud enough again that she could hear it echoing out in the lake filled chamber. She felt Lucius letting go, coming with a loud grunt, his hips slamming up into hers for one last time, twitching inside her as he spilled his seed. Hermione arched up, groaning. It was an odd sensation, but somehow a very arousing one. Her body clenched harder on him for a few moments before it finally released and she slumped forward, not a bone left in her body. Narcissa came down with her and all three of them laid there, panting and spent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a few minutes before anyone managed to say anything, but Narcissa finally pulled herself up off the pile, tracing along invisible lines on Hermione’s back with her fingertips. “Well, darling, how was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione managed to slip out an arm, giving her a weak thumbs up. She definitely wasn’t ready for anything more. On even her most desperate days, she’d only managed to wring two orgasms from herself, but here she was, having come harder than she ever had before for a third time. Her body would need more than a couple minutes to bounce back. She twitched through another aftershock, whining at the feeling of Lucius still inside her, but now soft. Still, it was almost overstimulating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well considering that you’re still beyond words, I’m going to infer it was better than just a thumbs up.” Narcissa laughed, low and deep, and despite how exhausted Hermione felt, she felt her body respond to the sound. “Lucius, are you alive, dear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius grunted, but made no other move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glad to know fucking our Hermione didn’t kill you then.” She shifted around and dropped a kiss on his forehead. “Though I rather suspect you’ll be out of commission for a decent amount of time now.” Her hand slipped into Hermione’s rather tangled hair and stroked gently, pulling at the tears with careful fingers. “He’s only ever been a two in one night man, even when he was younger. After that he practically passes out on top of you. One time I managed to get him to go for three and the next morning I swore he was dead. He slept well into the afternoon. It was a rather large confidence boost, but I did so fret.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione managed to get her arms under her and she carefully rolled off Lucius onto his other side. She flopped down on her back with a huge sigh, feeling her own wetness and Lucius’s come coat her thighs as she did so. Perhaps it hadn’t been the smartest decision of her life to ride him to completion, but she didn’t regret it, not after the look in his eyes hearing she was a virgin at the start of their coupling. They could be smarter next time. And for now...well, she rather enjoyed the feeling of warmth inside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa crawled over Lucius, looking at the picture that Hermione made, spread out on their bed. She licked her lips. “Freshly fucked like this, you look even more lovely than normal. I certainly could get used to this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione held up her arms, paying no mind to just how much her muscles were still trembling. Narcissa smiled and crawled up Hermione, nestling in her arms before laying down. She was light enough that Hermione didn’t feel like she was being squished at all. Mostly, Narcissa felt like a very warm, very secure blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you still moving around with any speed?” Hermione asked, kissing the crown of Narcissa’s head gently, inhaling the scent of citrus and now the faint tang of sweat cooling after their love making.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One, I’ve only had one orgasm, and as a woman that’s hardly something to stop you, and two, I’ve more experience so it isn’t quite so overwhelming as I imagine it is for you. Being touched by someone else and not your own hand is so much more. Of course it could be worse, but.” She felt Narcissa smirking against her chest. “I highly doubt we were worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you definitely weren’t and you well know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa ground her hips into Hermione’s, drawing a gasp from her. “Narcissa!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, still not quite yet recovered then?” Narcissa lifted herself up off of Hermione just enough to make sure she saw the cocked eyebrow. Then she thrust her hips into Hermione again, coating her lower stomach with wetness and Lucius’s come. Hermione cried out again, but this time it wasn’t quite so overwhelming, this time she very much wanted Narcissa to continue, her body starting to warm again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s smirk was practically evil. “Ah, then you are recovered. Wonderful. Because frankly, darling, I don’t think our dear Lucius’s seed should go to waste, do you? And here you are letting it drip onto the bedspread. But I have just the solution.” She pushed herself up, looking down at her wetness covered skin and wiping it up with her fingers. She held them out to Hermione. “Go on, taste yourself combined with him. I promise it’s a rather addicting taste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione took Narcissa’s fingers in her mouth and licked tentatively. She’d never tasted herself before. She didn’t know what to expect really. It didn’t really taste like a great deal, a bit salty, tangy notes, with a few bursts of stronger taste, more salty and musky and she wondered if that was Lucius’s taste mixed in with her own. She cleaned each one of Narcissa’s fingers carefully, wanting more, until every last bit was gone and then she just sucked because the look Narcissa was giving her, smouldering and hot, was too sinful to let slip easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa pulled her fingers out of Hermione’s mouth after a few minutes. “Now, now, we have other things to attend to.” She bent her head, taking in one of Hermione’s nipples into her mouth, licking it to a stiff peak before carefully biting down. Hermione gasped, arching up into her. Oh, if Lucius’s fingers had been wonderful before, this took the cake. Her fingers laced through Narcissa’s hair pulling her closer, never wanting it to end. She switched sides, giving the other nipple the same treatment, over and over again until Hermione was out of her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa, more, I need more,” Hermione begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, exactly what I was waiting for.” And then she started to trail down Hermione’s body, dropping kisses as she went, circling Hermione’s belly button with her tongue, nipping at her hip bones, before she was kneeling in front of Hermione’s center, breathing in audibly. “You smell wonderful darling.” She reached out a finger, swiping through Hermione’s folds, avoiding any area that would actually send Hermione over the edge, but the gesture still sent her squirming. She stuck the finger in her mouth and licked it clean. “And taste even better. Tell me, have you heard the girls in the dorm speak of a man performing oral sex on them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione felt her eyes widening. She shook her head. She’d heard about a lot of things, heard about women going down on men, but never of the opposite. Either it wasn’t a common occurrence, or there were even some things that the girls in the corps thought were too dirty to talk about. Though looking at Narcissa between her thighs like this, well this didn’t seem too dirty. It seemed rather like it was going to cause her to lose her mind completely, but it certainly wasn’t worse than anything else she’d heard them talking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t say I’m surprised. Most men these days are only concerned with their pleasure.” She reached out and caressed Lucius’s leg. He twitched a bit, but otherwise didn’t seem to notice, still lost in a pleasure induced haze. “But our lovely Lucius, as well read as he is, is beyond that. The first time he took me like this, I think I blacked out.” She smiled up at Hermione, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I’m hoping I can repeat the same with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she was leaning forward, spreading Hermione’s folds with her hands, extending her tongue, running it gently over her from opening to clit, then repeating over and over again. It felt like nothing she’d ever experienced before and it was driving her </span>
  <em>
    <span>wild</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She laced her fingers in Narcissa’s hair again, pulling her forward, but Narcissa wasn’t budging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Patience, darling, you’ll get there, but not before I’ve cleaned you up first, yes?” And then she dove back in, licking over her again and again, sometimes pulling back to lap at the insides of Hermione’s thighs where wetness had rubbed off, building her up to the point of breaking and then pulling back. Narcissa had to pin down Hermione’s hips, she was bucking them too much for her to really get a grip. She was so on edge. There had to be no trace left of Lucius in her folds, she was sure, but then Narcissa’s tongue entered her, wiggling around and Hermione cried out. Oh, Narcissa’s tongue was too clever to be down there. She was sure she was going to absolutely lose her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius finally rolled over enough to wrap his arm around Hermione. “She’s driven me mad with her mouth more times than I can count. I still shatter every time.” He kissed her neck, moving down until he found her collarbone and then sucking hard, leaving a trail of little bruises in his wake. Oh, that was certainly not helping, and yet she never wanted him to stop either. What would it be like to be driven off the edge of sanity by the mouths of the two people she loved?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa looked up at Hermione, smiling against her as she saw Lucius now back in action. She pulled away, leaving Hermione whimpering, wishing the woman would put her out of her misery and let her come again. “All of her tastes wonderful, doesn’t she, dear?” She asked Lucius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up to smile at her. “Wonderful, I’ll never tire of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa pulled him down to kiss him, hot and heavy for a long minute. Hermione watched them intently, feeling the violent swirl of pleasure in her stomach curl tighter watching them moaning and moving together. Oh, they looked so good together and in a moment they would be back on her again, making her feel like she never had before. She was so lucky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But also if they didn’t get on with it soon, they were going to have nothing left to come back to but a frustrated pile of Hermione shaped goo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully they seemed to sense that and broke apart, returning to where they’d been before, driving Hermione up the wall. Narcissa resumed her licking, but now it seemed to have more intent. Her strokes were shorter, honing in on her clit more and more. Lucius’s mouth found her breasts, taking up where Narcissa left off, licking and nipping and sending more sparks of pleasure straight to her clit for Narcissa to profit from. She felt her muscles tightening, ready to throw her over the edge, and then Narcissa sucked hard once, taking her clit into her mouth, and Hermione screamed out her release, until she went silent, still forcing air through her vocal cords, but they refused to make any sound. She felt as if she left her own body, felt like she was floating right next to the ceiling as spasms wracked her, sending arcs of pleasured fire through her. Her mind went blank, a white haze descending over her thoughts. She was just this moment of pure bliss and nothing more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked her eyes open what had to be a few minutes later. Lucius and Narcissa were beside her on the bed. Lucius’s fingers were between Narcissa’s thighs and Narcissa’s head was snapped back into the bedding, her face contorted in pleasure. It was a truly beautiful sight. She reached out with a lead weighted arm, still feeling the after effects of her orgasm, to trace over Narcissa’s features gently. The woman thrashed on the bed like a woman possessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius, god, oh Lucius!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione turned to meet Lucius’s eyes. “She’s beautiful like this,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch her as she comes, it gets even better.” And he redoubled his thrusts, causing Narcissa to cry out even louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione let her hand trail down to Narcissa’s breasts, caressing, teasing, never putting any real pressure into her touches, watching as goosebumps sprouted in the wake of her touch. How was this woman so responsive even as she was being fucked by Lucius? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius reached out and grabbed Hermione’s hand, tugging it downward until it rested at the apex of Narcissa’s thighs. “Rub, doesn’t matter how. She’s too far gone to need any fancy technique.” He thrust forward again, using his hips now to gain more leverage. Hermione followed his directions, rubbing gently at first, then with increasing pressure as Narcissa stopped using words all together and just moaned out her pleasure to the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut, lip trapped between her teeth. Was this what she looked like before she came? She could see why the others loved to watch her come if it was. She wanted to see Narcissa like this again and again and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gonna come!” Narcissa yelled. One stroke of Hermione’s fingers, two, then three, and she could feel the other woman tense below her and then release, feeling the rhythmic undulations of her muscles under her fingertips. She watched Narcissa’s face scrunch even further, flush rising up from her chest to color her face, before she relaxed into the bed boneless, looking for all the world like the rendering of an angel. Hermione breathed out a sigh of a breath. Oh, Lucius had been so right. She brought her other hand up to trace Narcissa’s features again, the smooth lines feeling different than those of her face tensed while chasing her orgam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful, my love,” Lucius whispered before bending and kissing his wife. Narcissa returned the affection as if on autopilot, clearly not all back in her own body yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione pulled her fingers away from Narcissa’s clit, bringing them to her nose. She inhaled, musky and earthy, before she licked her fingers, and found that Narcissa tasted entirely different from her, the base notes were the same, salt and tang, everything else was different. She couldn’t put a finger on just what, but it was almost as if there were distant echoes of the citrus she smelled of. Narcissa tasted like herself, that was really the only way to put it. And she loved it immediately. Her mouth watered, desperate to try and replicate what Narcissa had done to her a few minutes before, but considering that Narcissa still hadn’t even opened her eyes yet, she might need a moment or two before that could happen. Hermione could definitely respect that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius was above her a moment later, smiling down at her. “Hello there, my love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione smiled back. “Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?” One hand reached up to cup her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fantastic.” Her eyes swept over him hungrily. As much as she needed to taste Narcissa, well, if she was going to be out for a few minutes, there were other things she could do with her time. “Though I’m sure you could make me feel even better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I most certainly could. Did you have something specific in mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione shook her head. “Whatever you want to do to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius’s laugh was dark and smoky and filled with things that made Hermione even wetter than she already was. “That leaves room for a great many things, don’t you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m aware. You haven’t heard the girls gossip in the dorms but I certainly have. They aren’t the most creative lot, but there are a lot of them and that seems to make up for that fact.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, I’m sure.” He leaned back, sitting on his knees, then pulled her up with him. “Then I have an idea, and I think you’ll like it.” He flipped her over and laid her back down, head and shoulders on the bed, and pulled her knees under her so her ass was in the air. He smacked it lightly and Hermione gasped in a breath. Oh, that had felt good. Really good. Perhaps there was something more there to be explored, but Lucius’s hands were already moving on. “Narcissa tells me that being fingered in this position feels different, perhaps not more intense, but different. If you don’t enjoy it just let me know, I’m here for your pleasure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifted up enough to look him in the eye. “Lucius, I’m sure that whatever you’re about to do to me will feel wonderful, because a, it’s you and b, I’m so turned on again after watching you fuck Narcissa that a stiff breeze would be a relief.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius laughed again, this time with delight. “Well, I’m sure I can do better than that.” And he pushed her back down into the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without being able to see him Hermione had to wait for his touch. Her anticipation rose higher and higher as the seconds passed and then, finally, Lucius’s fingers found her wet flesh and she gasped in a breath at the feeling. The calluses on his fingers felt so different on her tender skin, feeling rougher, and yet that wasn’t a bad thing. She squirmed, trying to get some more contact, but he pulled away just as quickly. So this was going to be a theme with the two of them, was it. She groaned out her frustration, but stilled her seeking hips. If he wasn’t going to touch her on anything but his own time then she better behave, hadn’t she.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For now anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clever girl,” he husked before reaching out to touch her again. His fingers explored her gently, taking their time, mapping every little place that made her gasp. Hermione’s moans blended together until she was just whimpering in one continuous sound. She knew that his fingers were skillful before, but this? This was far more than she had ever thought. If she was an instrument, he would be a master and this was only their first time together. What would it be like after they spent more time together? Oh god, would she survive?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius, stop teasing the girl,” Narcissa said, voice hoarse and a bit sleepy. Hermione opened her eyes to meet Narcissa’s gaze, still a bit far away, a dreamy smile on her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you were over here you would tease her until she didn’t know her name any more and we both know it,” Lucius said, not letting up on his featherlight assault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps, but I have rather suspended the rules of engagement tonight, what with this being the first time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just want to see me fuck her again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa licked her lips and hummed. “Can you blame me, dear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all.” And then Lucius finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> slipped a finger inside Hermione, thrusting in slowly, letting her get used to the intrusion, though after all of the other things they had done didn’t really take that long at all. What was one finger in the face of having taken all of Lucius before. She didn’t move her hips though to demand more, she just relaxed into his touch as he slowly thrust into her a few more times before slipping a second finger into her. She felt more of the stretch this time, but still she didn’t mind it. If anything the slight burn made it more pleasurable. She turned her face into the bed and moaned, taking the blanket between her teeth and biting down. It gave her something to focus on other than Lucius’s relentless touch that still wasn’t enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s hand found its way into her hair. “Relax, dear one, all will come in good time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione turned enough to look at her. “Easy for you to say right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa laughed and nodded. “I suppose it is. But you know it will be worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Any other words Hermione had been about to say were taken from her as Lucius slipped in a third finger and now she could definitely feel him inside of her. She cried out, balling the blanket in her fists. She wondered if she could rip the fabric pulling it as she was. Did sexual frustration and longing give a person such powers? She supposed she was about to find out because beside the fact that Lucius had finally stretched her almost to her limits again, he wasn’t moving any faster. She whimpered, groaned, moaned, but nothing seemed to make him want to go any quicker than he already was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius, please!” she begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt him lean over her to whisper in her ear. “But I love seeing just what pretty sounds I can draw from you, my love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a lifetime to find out, please just make me come now!” She couldn’t help but wiggle back into him now. Thankfully, Lucius didn’t stop thrusting again at her actions. If anything he seemed to consider her words before sitting up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you’re right.” He hummed. “I could take you on the piano bench and score your pleasure as it happens. That sounds like a delightful exercise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione shivered at that image. She didn’t think she would mind that herself, but right now that was very much beside the point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well then.” And he finally sped up his thrusts from slow to blindingly fast in an instant. Hermione sobbed her relief into the bed. She could at last feel her body building up and up and up towards its peak, Narcissa’s hands still in her hand, scratching at her scalp, providing a grounding counterpoint against the pleasure that Lucius was inflicting on her. She reached out an arm to drag Narcissa closer, needing to feel her, needing something more to prove that she was in this moment. She found Narcissa’s mouth and kissed her, sloppy and uncoordinated, but it didn’t matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she broke, thrown over the cliff by a firm stroke against the front of her walls, hitting in just the right place, she screamed into Narcissa’s mouth. Narcissa drank her pleasure down like sweetest nectar, smiling into the kiss and Lucius still moved, drawing out the aftershocks until Hermione’s legs couldn’t hold her up anymore. She collapsed onto the bed and heaved out a sigh. Well. That position certainly would have to be tried again, next time with Lucius fucking her on his cock. That would certainly be delicious. But for now she just snuggled further into Narcissa. She truly felt the grasp of a lazy tiredness on her now. Five orgasms would do that, she supposed, but she was in no way down and out for the count. Now, she would be ready to learn how to eat Narcissa out in just a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius curled up behind Narcissa, wrapping his arm over her and grabbing onto Hermione, pulling them all so they were sandwiched together under his arm. Hermione didn’t mind. It was warm and she felt so wholly loved, pressed up against Narcissa skin to skin, entangled in such a way she wasn’t quite sure she knew where she ended and Narcissa began with the comforting presence of Lucius on top for extra measure. She sighed and closed her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is nice,” Hermione said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always have rather enjoyed the post sex cuddle,” Narcissa agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t argue against it either.” Lucius dropped a kiss on Narcissa’s head. “Though I have a feeling you aren’t done, are you, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, of course not, but there isn't a harm in taking a bit of a break. After all, the Phantom of the Opera has worked his magic on us and we’re just mortals. We need time to recover.” Narcissa couldn’t get through the statement without laughing, having to pause between the last few words to stifle her laughter enough to get the next word out. Hermione couldn’t help but join in, and despite Lucius being the object of the joke, his tenor laugh vibrated through Narcissa to shake Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione buried her face in Narcissa’s neck smiling. “I love you both so much. I’m so happy right now I’m not even sure I know what to do with myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh darling, we love you too. So much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. This is more than I could have ever dreamed of.” Lucius squeezed them a bit harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good thing we aren’t a dream then, huh.” Hermione found his hand and squeezed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. It is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They lay there for a few long minutes before Lucius’s hands started to wander, slipping around to grab Hermione’s ass for a lingering second before slipping between Hermione and Narcissa to pinch at Narcissa’s nipples. Narcissa wiggled back against him and sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone appears to be ready for the next round,” she said arching into his touch as much as she could, sandwiched in the middle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I very much am. And I would love to fuck my wife this time around, if she’s willing.” He ground into her and Narcissa let out a sharp breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful.” He popped up to look at Hermione. “And if our lovely Hermione would like to stay where she is and hold Narcissa, I have a wonderful idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. How could Hermione say no to that. “Sounds easy enough.” She smiled at Lucius and relaxed back down into the bed, still curled into Narcissa’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius tugged up one of Narcissa’s legs, up over his own, opening her up and pressing into her with his cock. Narcissa gasped and hummed wiggling back into Lucius to force him in even more. Hermione swallowed hard listening to her breathing speed up as Lucius finally thrust all the way in and then started to pull back out again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, I always forget just how big you feel like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius laughed, slowly speeding up from torturously slow thrusts to a pace more suited to a lazy Sunday morning. “And yet it is a staple of our morning sex. Should I be worried about your mind, dear? Going senile on me already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hush, you, and fuck me properly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. “Shan’t. I want to enjoy this for as long as possible. We all know the second it’s over I’m going to collapse into a snoring, overly satisfied mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, what will Hermione and I ever do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione pulled back and looked Narcissa in the eye. “Well, I thought about eating you out as a first stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius hummed, his hips stuttering just a bit. He looked at Hermione hungrily. “That might just be worth staying awake to see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa gripped onto Hermione tighter, hands tugging at the ends of her hair, sending jolts of pain to her scalp. She didn’t reach out to stop the other woman, though. Something about it strung all the thoughts of pained pleasure from across their time in bed together and seared her brain with surprising force. She wanted and needed just a bit of pain with her love making. It kept her nerve endings on edge, kept her on her toes, same as the feeling of taking orders from Narcissa and obeying them without question. Would she have gotten this with anyone else? She didn’t think so, not in just the right amounts. She moaned into Narcissa’s skin kissing along the collarbone under her mouth, nipping and leaving little fast fading marks which just made Narcissa’s grip tighten further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I look forward to teaching you, darling.” One of her hands dropped from Hermione’s hair to twist around and rest of Lucius’s hip. “Please, harder, my love. I need to feel you all through tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius growled and thrust hard enough Hermione was moved by the force. Oh god above, what would that feel like, to have him fuck her like that. The way Narcissa’s face contorted in pleasure said it felt amazing. Her whimpered sighs were as intoxicating as wine and Hermione had to drink them all up. She kissed the woman hard, bracing herself on the bed so Lucius could fuck her as hard as he wanted without thrusting them right off the edge of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa pulled back from the kiss, too breathless to continue. “Just hold me, please just hold me,” she told Hermione, looking at her with pleasure hazed eyes. “It’s too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione rested her forehead against the other woman’s. “Are you sure?” Her hand slipped up and found the other woman’s breast, just holding it, not doing anything else, but even that sent Narcissa shivering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you should help as much as you want, Hermione,” Lucius said through his pants, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow as he continued pistoning into Narcissa. She could see the tightening of his muscles and wondered just how close he was to coming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t know it would be this intense between the two of you. I love it. I want more. But I might break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been breaking over and over every time either one of you makes me come. It’s not so bad to shatter and be remade. Not when it’s you two putting me back together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh darling, you can’t say such sweet things right now when I’m no shape to respond.” She buried her face in Hermione’s shoulder and bit down lightly. Hermione gasped and with that the decision was made. She started her own assault on Narcissa’s skin, caressing, pinching, soothing hurts, only to send another flare of sensation through Narcissa the next second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unh, she’s close,” Lucius grunted out. His thrusts were speeding up now, still just as hard as before and Hermione wondered just how he could keep it up. All those muscles weren’t just for show then, he could certainly use them. She swallowed hard around a dry throat but it didn’t seem to help her problem. All the moisture in her body was elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius snuck a hand around Narcissa’s leg, finding her clit, bumping against Hermione’s own mound. They both moaned at the sensation and Narcissa shuddered once before becoming rigid. She let out a stuttered cry, riding the waves of pleasure as Lucius kept thrusting, not slowing, not lessening the power of his thrusts until she was finally through the orgasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you have another one in you,” Lucius moaned, looking past Hermione towards the wall. He had to be plotting a score in his mind right now to keep from coming, Hermione was sure. But his fingers on Narcissa’s clit didn’t slow, bumping Hermione occasionally, sending sparks through her, working her higher just as he was working Narcissa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucius!” Narcissa cried. She squirmed, trying to worm her way out of their grip, but Hermione held her fast. The longer she stayed in place, the more pleasure they both got. “Too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve taken more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione’s hands came to rest on Narcissa’s breasts again, pulling on delicate flesh there and Narcissa bit down on her shoulder harder. Oh fuck, the heat in Hermione’s stomach coiled. Just a little more stimulation and she’d come for the sixth time. How in the world was that even possible? How could one person stand so much pleasure?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on Narcissa. Come for us,” Hermione breathed into her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Narcissa did, her scream almost as loud as Hermione’s last had been. Lucius’s hips stuttered and stopped a second later as he spilled himself inside her, still working his fingers to get Narcissa through her climax. One last bump against Hermione sent her into a smaller but no less satisfying end. She panted, twitching, riding it out, a smile already on her face. Oh, they would be doing that again, but with her in the middle as soon as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius rolled towards the other side of the bed after a minute, eyes already drifting shut. “I think as much as I want to watch, I might not get to.” His grey eyes were tired and happy and Hermione wished he hadn’t rolled so far away so she could kiss him. Seeing him so happy made her feel like her heart was too big for her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure there will be a morning performance.” Hermione winked at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smirked. “Good thing I already have front rows seats then, isn’t it.” His eyes slipped closed finally. “Love you both. So thankful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you too,” Narcissa mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I love you too,” Hermione echoed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then a second later, Lucius was snoring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Hermione said, focusing back on Narcissa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you, two and he’s done for. Three and you think he’s dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how are you?” Hermione hadn’t counted just how many orgasms Narcissa had had, but she had a feeling she wasn’t that far behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I have one or two left in me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful.” Hermione pulled back. “I’m ready for my lesson now, Madame Black.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always willing to learn, Miss Granger, it’s what I like about you.” Narcissa rolled onto her back. “And how much there is to teach you. I’m sure mastery will take years. It is a good thing we have them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sat up enough to look down on Narcissa, intent clear in her eyes. “It truly is. Now, where should I begin?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kiss me, touch me everywhere but where I need you most, build me back up again. I need you desperately, but I fear right now I might flinch away from your gentlest touch against my clit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione smiled down at her. “Lucius does have that effect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed he does. I’ve had him tease me until I was quite literally delirious, and then he fucked me so hard I had to beg off dance practice as sick because I couldn’t walk the next day.” Her face had a dreamy expression on it. “And that wasn’t the first time that happened. I think it might need to make an encore appearance as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m never going to say no to a plan like that. Good thing I’m on the good side of the ballet mistress.” She winked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, a very good thing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione leaned down and kissed her once more. How was it that after all this kissing her was still a revelation? They had done so many things already, but Hermione would never tire of this simple pleasure. Everything was still new and fresh and beautiful, tasting all of Narcissa was intoxicating. And if this was so alluring, she wondered just how addicted she would be to tasting the other woman directly from the source.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled back and started to kiss her way down the other woman’s body. She nipped her way down her neck, never hard enough to leave permanent bruises, no that wasn’t befitting an elegant woman like Narcissa. She would leave her bruises elsewhere, where only she and Lucius would know about them. She liked that more somehow, that the bruises she left would be their little secret. So her bites carried more weight as she descended past Narcissa’s collar bone to the soft skin of her chest, licking to soothe the sting, sucking to leave deeper marks. In the morning Narcissa might just be a bit black and blue. But from the way the woman was writhing on the bed, she wouldn’t mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She spent long minutes worshipping her breasts, finding ever new areas that drove gasps from Narcissa. She thought with how loud Narcissa was moaning, that they would wake up Lucius, but no. He slept on like the dead, just as the other woman had said he would. In the morning when he found Narcissa with bruises all over her, only a small number of which would be from him, what would he think? She sucked on Narcissa’s nipple, feeling the other woman arch underneath her, pulling on her hair, pulling her in at the same time as tugging her away. Would Lucius pull Narcissa to him and add more bruises of his own? Hermione moaned against wet skin at the picture of her waking up to him fucking Narcissa in front of her again. Her breath caught when the image shifted to him waking her up by leaving the same number of bruises all over her instead. Oh either way would be delicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hermione, I’m ready, lower!” Narcissa’s hands shoved her down and Hermione obeyed, dropping kisses until she was settled between Narcissa’s legs breathing her in. She laid her head on Narcissa’s thigh and sighed. She smelled divine, like finest ambrosia. “With your tongue as flat as possible, lick me from opening to clit. Don’t lick me directly on my clit at first, build me up more, let me writhe. And you’re going to want to have ahold of me somehow, trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione smiled up at her, circling her arms around Narcissa’s legs as instructed. “Yes Madame Black.” And then she leaned forward and did exactly as instructed. She hummed at the first taste of Narcissa on her tongue, undiluted and wonderful. Narcissa’s hips bucked against her, but they didn’t go very far considering just how tight Hermione’s grip on her was. Hermione smiled into wet flesh, but kept up the pace, slow and steady, listening to Narcissa’s moans build louder and louder, feeling more and more wetness coat her chin, tasting her more deeply. This was heaven, she was sure of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need more. Narrow your tongue more, start stroking at my clit.” Narcissa wrapped a hand in Hermione’s hair and tugged her forward, not letting her get into any other position but one to lick her clit. Not that Hermione was complaining. She moaned at the pull in her hair, moaned louder as Narcissa’s hips twitched again, bumping into her nose. All she could smell now was the other woman. All her senses were invaded by Narcissa in the best way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Narcissa,” she whimpered, watching her twitch against the vibrations of the word against sensitive flesh. And then Hermione finally followed her direction, narrowing her tongue and circling her clit in wide circles and then narrowing them slowly. Narcissa’s breathing picked up. She could feel the other woman trembling under her hands, muscles jumping, preparing for what was to come. Hermione gasped in a breath. Oh, she was going to be able to taste the moment of Narcissa’s orgasm. That was far too heady a thought. And suddenly all she wanted was to make the other woman come as soon as possible. She needed it more than she needed to breathe. She pulled in one last deep breath and then buried her face in Narcissa, licking and sucking with restless abandon. She felt her own hips grinding into the bed, seeking for a release that certainly wasn’t going to come at the hands of rumpled bed clothes, but she had a feeling Narcissa would make it up to her soon enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, oh god, Hermione!” Narcissa’s cries increased in volume as Hermione’s pace quickened. She lashed her tongue across the other woman’s clit, not giving her even an iota of rest. She tensed more and more under her hands, and when Hermione was sure she was just on the edge of coming, she nipped as gently as she could, but it was enough to send Narcissa screaming to the heavens. Hermione opened her mouth to drink everything in, tasting everything, reveling in the other woman’s release, guiding her through it. She had never felt so powerful as she did now, laying before this woman in supplication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She licked Narcissa clean and then crawled up the other woman’s body, boneless sprawling over her, waiting for Narcissa to come back to the planet. She dropped little kisses on her face, encouraging her, but Narcissa’s eyes stayed firmly closed, her breathing still ragged. Though, her smirk grew and grew until finally her eyes opened just a slit to look up at Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, darling, what exactly was there to teach? You got the most important part right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione laughed. “Somehow I thought I would. I very much want to please my teacher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your teacher very much is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione ground her wetness onto Narcissa’s thigh, breath catching her in throat at the bit of relief the pressure brought. “Does a good student get a reward?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the reward itself is being a good student, but I think I could be persuaded to give something extra for a remarkable first performance.” Narcissa’s smirk took on a sultry edge. “And just what is it you were hoping for, my dear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything. I just want to come.” She bit her lip looking earnestly at Narcissa. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa chuckled. “We’ve created a monster in you, haven’t we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione considered that for a moment. Now that she had been introduced to sex just how much of it would she want? Looking at the woman below her, and the man snoring lightly off to the side of them, the answer was clear. She would want it as much and as often as she could get it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you might’ve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful.” Narcissa’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Quite frankly I’m thrilled to have you around.” She licked her lips and then grabbed Hermione’s waist before turning them to the side. Hermione landed with a bit of an ‘oof’ but the next second Narcissa’s mouth was on her, devouring her once again. “God, you taste divine with me on your lips. And if you’re a monster, oh darling, I’m the devil himself. Lucius has been trying to keep up with me for ages. I imagine this won’t help him.” She laughed again, free and open. “But lord, won’t he try. Now. For your reward.” Her hand slipped lower to cup Hermione.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes please,” Hermione breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want my fingers inside you, Hermione?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa hummed, delighted. “I thought you would.” A thoughtful look crossed her face. “Would you like to learn some more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione lickedh her lips, still tasting Narcissa on them. Well, since the last time had ended up so delightful, “Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful. Just do what I do to you on me. Should be easy enough to follow along.” Narcissa leaned forward to kiss along Hermione’s jaw until she was whispering in her ear. “Of course it will get more difficult the closer you get to coming for me. Will you be able to follow me then, darling? Or will I have to be disappointed in your performance for the first time since I’ve known you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t be disappointed.” She would damn well make sure that Narcissa came again even if she had to hold off on her own orgasm until she lost her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think I will either, but a little pressure to succeed never hurt anyone, did it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nipped at Narcissa’s neck, and perhaps that one would bruise rather visibly tomorrow. Whoops. Narcissa didn’t seem to mind so much as she let out a sharp breath, arching into the contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, I think you’re ready to get started then, aren’t you?” She bit hard into Hermione’s neck, leaving a mark of her own and then pulling back to smirk at Hermione. “Can’t have one of us walking around with a hickey without both of us having one, yes? It wouldn’t be fair. And having look and know you’re taken? I don’t mind that either. You are ours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded. “Yours. All yours. And you both are mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes we are.” And then her fingers parted Hermione and slipped between her folds, pausing, waiting and Hermione finally snapped into gear and followed her lead, reaching out, touching Narcissa, shivering at the feel of silken folds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good girl,” Narcissa’s voice was silken sweet, flowing across Hermione’s nerves cooly, leaving her wanting more. The other woman obliged, stroking her fingers gently through her folds, back and forth, back and forth, only barely grazing her clit, but it was enough to send her hips jumping every time. Narcissa herself seemed to be more in control. There was no jerking, no leaning into the touch, her breathing just slowly increased in speed. She held Hermione’s gaze as she finally parted Hermione’s legs, stroking around her entrance with a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready, darling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione swallowed hard. Of course she was, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to attempt to give a bit of the teasing back. “Are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa’s laugh was smoke and fire. “Can’t you tell? You’re the one with your fingers down there. Don’t I feel wet and ready to be filled?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course the woman would turn it right back around on her. She should have thought about that. “Oh god.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose in a roundabout way, he might have something to do with this.” And then Narcissa slipped two fingers inside of her. It took Hermione a moment to manage to do the same.  Even after a rest she was still sensitive. All her brain power was focused on feeling just what Narcissa was doing to her, not on actually doing the same to Narcissa. Perhaps she would be rather fucked after all trying to keep up with the other woman. But she finally managed it, pushing inside Narcissa with one finger at first, then two after a few seconds and realizing she was wanting and open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Finding it hard already, are we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione huffed out a breath, trying for a grand pout but then losing it almost immediately as Narcissa started to move her fingers in and out slowly. “Not all of us, oh Narcissa more, not all of us have experience in these matters. I am doing my level best but you’re very, very intoxicating.” She managed to get her own arm to move, stroking in and out of Narcissa slowly, relishing the muscles squeezing around her, trying to draw her in further. Oh her whole body wanted Hermione inside it, what a dizzying thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As a certainly aim to be.” Her thumb found Hermione’s clit again, tapping it lightly every few strokes. Hermione felt her whole body clenching up again already. How in the world was the woman this good. It had only been a few minutes. Surely she shouldn’t be this close already. In another instance she might be embarrassed about just how easy she was, but this was Narcissa Black. She had little doubt that others would find themselves in the exact same situation as she did. Hermione’s fingers curled on the out stroke on accident, a side effect of her muscles tensing, but it sent Narcissa trembling in her arms. Hermione’s eyes widened, watching the other woman’s pleasure blossom on her face. She did it again just to be sure it wasn’t a fluke, and oh, it certainly wasn’t. The moan Narcissa let out was delicious. She certainly had to taste it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione leaned in and kissed her, muffling the moans, but feeling them so much more intimately. Narcissa kissed her back, and it was perhaps the sloppiest she’d ever witnessed the other woman. It only turned Hermione on more. She’d made the woman like this with her own hands. Just her. On her own. She whimpered as Narcissa’s fingers started to mimic Hermione’s movements. There was just one right spot that they hit on the way out like that that had her seeing stars.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-cissa,” Hermione pulled back just enough to pant out her name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you close?” Narcissa managed to gasp out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione nodded, their heads gently bonking together with just how little space was left in-between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Closer than I expected. How did you know to do this.” And Narcissa curled her fingers and pressed right into that spot inside her and Hermione’s moan was long and loud, perched on the precipice, ready to go over when Narcissa did too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a magnificent accident it was then. Come with me, please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, please, please Narcissa.” Hermione wasn’t really sure what she was saying other than an agreement. Words flowed out of her mouth and just wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t concentrate enough to make them. There was so much else to focus on, the fluttering of Narcissa’s walls on her fingers, the sounds her wetness made as she thrust in and out of her, still trying to keep her movements as coordinated as possible, the sparks of pleasure in her own body, the feeling of Narcissa’s breath against her skin, their skin rubbing against one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then come, darling.” And Narcissa did just at that moment, walls clamping down on Hermione’s hand and the feeling sent her over the edge as well. She howled out her pleasure, feeling the edges of her vision grey out, more than truly seeing it. Oh, she would definitely be done for the night after this, but who could really blame her. It had been a night of unrelenting passion. And now all she really wanted was to curl up in the arms of her loves, just as soon as she could stop trembling from her orgasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked her eyes open to find Narcissa already staring at her with sleepy eyes. “Welcome back, darling.” She yawned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.” She snuggled into Narcissa. “I’m never going to be able to move again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately we have to move enough to get under the covers and pull Lucius over enough to cuddle. It gets rather cold sleeping without the covers at the very least, but it’s always warmer with him. He is a heater.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione hummed her agreement. “Then we should probably move sooner rather than later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except neither one of them moved. They both stared at each other and laughed, yawning intermittently. Hermione finally pushed herself up enough to grab at the edge of the covers. Narcissa groaned but did the same. Together they managed to weasel the blankets out from under Lucius and then back over him, and with careful rolling put him more towards the center of the bed. He still didn’t wake up, for which Hermione was impressed. Narcissa flopped down in front of him, pulling his arm over her waist and patting the bed in front of her with obvious suggestion. Hermione wasted no time in taking in and in a second, she was wrapped up in warm arms with her eyes already slipping shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with sleep. “I couldn’t have imagined a better first time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Narcissa kissed the back of Hermione’s neck. “No, thank you for sharing it with us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione sensed that they could probably go around and around in circles with that sort of logic, and the didn’t have time for that. She was going to be asleep in the next minute most likely. “Love you,” she said instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, darling. Sleep well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hermione smiled and before she had another thought, she was asleep.</span>
</p>
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